Best left unanswered.

Lately we've been introduced to the glory that is projectile baby vomit. It's not very often that The Punky decides to send all the contents of her stomach flying at an impressive speed and angle, but it does happen. And whenever it happens, I'm not sure if I should be concerned, angry, or just plain impressed. I mean, hey, if she can clear my shoulder and hit the wall on the other side of the room, whatever. It's one less puked-on t-shirt I need to toss in the laundry.

The other night she was feeling especially saucy (and again, "saucy" is code word for "incredibly pissed off at the world and everything and everyone in it, for four solid hours"), the only remedy for which is to walk around the house. I was bouncing/walking/burp patting, hoping to get a burp out of her and, for lack of a more delicate term, get her to shut the hell up. Suddenly I hear a "splat" behind me hit the hardwood floor. I knew what it was before I even turned around, but I turned around nonetheless -- with the same amount of dread as Janet Leigh in the shower in the Bates Hotel -- and there was the milk/bile/phlegm puddle on the floor.

Fucking great.

I'm drenched down my back in puke, The Punky has managed to get it on herself, and simultaneously she had, and I'm totally serious here, managed to take a giant dookie. *sighs* Off to the changing table we went. A, who had seen the whole gory mess, was left to deal with the puddle of awesomeness.

Or so I thought. I realized, in mid-diaper/onesie change that he was in the nursery with me, hoping to provide any assistance he could to his puke-covered wife and daughter. I finished up the changing and cleaning and wiped most of the puke out of my hair and came out to deal with the puddle.

The puddle was gone.

The floor was almost completely dry. It wasn't even sticky. It was like the puddle had never happened. I know what I saw. I know it was there. And I know Bodhi was sitting next to where I swear I saw the puddle, licking his chops like he'd just had filet mignon.

Sometimes it's really for the best that you just don't ask certain questions.