PUKE

A four act play. That actually happened in my house last night.

2:15a.m.

Mother is sleeping soundly in her bed. Father bustles in with their five and a half year old daughter, hand in hand.

Father: Murmer...murmer...murmer...(something unintelligible...)

*pauses*

Father: Mother, Daughter is awake. She came downstairs...here...

Mother (groggily): Ok, get in bed with me, Daughter.

*Daugher climbs into Mother's side of bed.*

Daughter: I need water on my stomach.

Mother: (groggily) Hmmm?

Daughter: I feel bad in my chest and I need water on my stomach.

Mother: Ok, we can get some water.

Daughter: No. I need to go potty.

Mother: Ok, go potty in the bathroom.

*Mommy Senses kick in and Mother bolts upright. Immediately locates emergency puke bucket in the dark and dumps out books. Runs to bathroom door.*

*Footsteps from inside the bathroom stop and make a U-turn.*

Daughter: Mom, I just need you to hug me!

Mother: Not yet! Here! Lean over this!

Daughter: PUUUUUUKE!!

OH NO! I'M PUKING!

Father: Go to the toilet!

Mother: No! She's doing great! It's all in the bucket! (to Daughter) Stay right here!

Daughter: This is horrible. (arm flourish over forehead) I don't like this. PUUUUKE!!

Mother: I know. But you did a great job! Dont' get your hand in it. Put your hands down. You got it all in the bucket!

Daughter: Mom?

Mother: Hmmm?

Daughter: YOU. ARE. AWESOME! I have to pee.

*Mother smiles and hands puke bucket to father with directions to wash it out and return.*

*Father mumbles something under his breath.*

Daughter: FATHER! YOU. ARE. AWESOME. TOO! (to Mother) Does puking make you have to pee?

Mother: Sometimes.

 YOU. ARE. AWESOME!



Daughter: This tastes terrible. (with arm flourish over mouth)

Mother: We'll get a little something to drink in a second. Let's finish up here.

*Daughter walks to sink to wash hands.*

Daughter: Mom, I need you to hug me right now.

*Mother goes to hug Daughter...but stops. Grabs well-timed return of bucket from Father and shoves it under Daughter's chin.)

Daughter: PUUUUUUKE!

Father: This is going to be a long night.

Mother disappears briefly to enter absence from school online and to request a substitute for tomorrow.

Father gets water for Daughter. All three settle into the bed as best they can with puke bucket close by on the nightstand.

SCENE.

*******

3:30 a.m.

Daughter: *cough cough*

*Mother bolts upright. Grabs puke bucket. Shoves it under Daughter's chin.

Daughter: My back hur....PUUUUUKE!!

Mother: You're doing great! You got it all in the bucket again! I'm so proud of you!

Daughter: (dramatically) Why do people have to throw up? This is ridiculous. I hate it. I'm so sorry to say hate but is it ok to say hate about puking?

I REALLY HATE PUKING.

 



Mother: It's ok for today. Just don't say it about anything else.

Daughter: I hate puking. This is miserable! (hands flourished out to each side)

*Father brings in wet cloth to wash off Daughter's face. Daughter sips water. Everyone lays back down.*

Daughter: Puking DOES make you have to pee. I have to pee again.

*Mother and Daughter make a trip to the bathroom, wash hands, and return to bed. Daughter crawls into the middle of the bed.*

Mother: Honey, let Mother get into the middle so you can stay on the side.

Daughter. But Mother what if I FALL OUT OF THE BED?

Mother: You've been sleeping on this side for the last hour or so. You'll be ok, I won't let you fall out. It's much better if you're close to the puke bucket.

Daughter. (holds up hand) I know...in case I puke again. (dramatically) WHY does this have to happen to me?

WHY DOES THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN TO ME?

 



Father: Woah, that's a big one.

*Father kindly removes puke bucket for rinsing and comes back with wet wash cloth.*

Mother: It happens to everyone once in awhile.

*Mother and Daughter join Father again and attempt to go to sleep. They are briefly successful*

SCENE.

********

5:30 a.m.

Daughter: My heart is running fast!

*Mother, once again, uses her cat-like reflexes to reach across Daughter to grab puke bucket and shove it under Daughter's chin.

Daughter: PUUUUUKE!! (to Mother) Now I know the signal. When my back starts hurting and my heart is running fast, it's time to puke.

Mother: This is a breakthrough. I'm proud beyond...

Daughter: PUUUUKE!! I just don't know why this keeps happening.

*Rinse. Sip water. Wipe face. Lay back down.*

*Mother sneaks away to write lesson plans and email them to school. Returns thirty minutes later to a sleeping Father and Daughter.*

SCENE.

*******

Light creeps into the bedroom and Mother never really goes back to sleep. Son enters around 7:00 a. m., wondering why Daughter was not upstairs in her bed.

Daughter: Do NOT touch me! (arms out) I still like you but I PUKED!

Son: Oh. Ok.

Daughter: When you get to school, be sure to tell my teacher that I puked. And try to tell ALL of my friends. (double hand flourish) Also, you can tell all of your friends, too. (additional double hand flourish) Tell them I puked THREE TIMES. Ok?

Son: Ok. What's for breakfast?

Mother: Not sure yet. We'll all be eating light today....

FIN.

 

 

or....TO BE CONTINUED?

Dr. Junior

"Mom, why did Dr. Junior have a dream?"

I had already seen the paper in her take-home folder, so I knew exactly what she meant. Her class has been talking about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in school this week. She is a sharp cookie for her age, but this is a tough concept. I went on to ask her about the investigation her class had done with a brown egg and a white egg. The idea is that you talk about how on the outside, the shell is hard and protects the inside. The only difference is the color of the shell.

Then, you break the egg open and show that the insides are identical. One yolk, one albumin, nothing else. They're both the same. That prompts a discussion about how people are no different from each other on the inside.

(If you'd like to do this activity with your child or students, you can get a FREE printable here: http://www.teacherspayteachers.com/Product/Martin-Luther-King-Jr-Egg-Activity-191824)

She could tell me verbatim what she had done, what her teacher had said, and recounted it with the usual enthusiasm of a child who has an amazingly gifted kindergarten teacher. (We love her dearly, if you can't tell.)

But she wasn't really getting it.

I went further. She is bright, so I felt that I could tell her more. I explained that a long time ago, people weren't always allowed to do the same things. Things like going to a certain school or going to a certain restaurant. Sometimes people with peach skin (as she calls it) didn't even want to be friends with people who had dark skin.

"They didn't?"

"No, they didn't. And sometimes they were very mean."

"That wasn't very nice of them." "Mom, why do people call our skin white instead of peach?"

My answer - "Probably because peach looks close to white."

 But this set off a momentary rage within me. I don't know this for sure, but I imagined for a second that somewhere back in time, someone decided that Caucasian skin should be called white because it would sound the most opposite of black that it possibly could.

When really, we're all just the yolk and the albumin on the inside.

Our conversation ended and I realized...She still didn't understand. Not really. 

Her teacher's lesson and our conversation will now be a part of her schema to help her answer the questions her teachers will ask in years to come. She'll be the one raising her hand. She always is. But really, she just does not get it.

And I am SO glad.

She will never know a world where she cannot hug her friends with dark skin. She will never know a world where it is not ok for the Hispanic boy in her class to teach her how to say Spanish words. She will never know a world where there are no dark skinned baby dolls.

This world is not perfect. It never will be. She will learn things later that will break her heart like they break mine. But for now, there is a little peach girl in North Carolina who will hug your neck and talk your ear off no matter the shade of your skin.

GOD MADE US ALL.

Galatians 3:28 (NIV)

There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.