Spidey-sense and Sensibility

There are moments in my life when I swear I'm psychic. 

However, when I stop to think about it, it's more likely that I have, over the years, sharpened my intuition as a mom. I've honed the ability to recognize subtle changes in their behavior, stance, facial expression, etc., etc. in order to predict the next few events that will logically follow.

Take the following scenario as an example...

Standing in one of a variety of discount stores that grace the beautiful countryside of rural America, my son and I are shopping. The day has been fairly routine; breakfast, followed by about a half hour of Spongebob (or other varieties of animated delight), some light cleaning... you get the idea. He's been in a pretty good mood up to this point in the day. 

By the time we reach the cleaning aisle, his demeanor changes... his skin has gotten a little paler, his eyes have glazed over as he stares bewildered into nothingness. My son now stops abruptly and leans forward...

Oh, crap. He's gonna barf ...

Now begins a chess game in my brain. Millions of neurons begin firing all at once, a beautiful symphony of science. Do I panic? No ... illogical. Signals begin zipping to every part of my being, releasing adrenaline, sharpening focus, contemplating my next few moves...

I quickly search my surroundings and notice the buckets off the shelf... 

Now, some would just let the boy vomit on the floor and call for clean-up. Ew. Gross... Others may just grab the nearest receptacle and hope for the best....

Not me. If my kid is going to throw up, it's my responsibility to take care of what happens, and I fully intend to pay for whatever damage is done. However, I'm on a budget.

In the nanoseconds to come, I spy three available containers, all of which are of an acceptable capacity to hold the contents of a child's stomach. Color is not a concern, neither is the presence of a handle or spout. Bucket A is too expensive - who in their right mind pays that much for a cheap piece of plastic? Bucket B isn't too bad, price-wise, but I don't intend to keep it after the fact. Bucket C is flimsy, but cheap, and it's on clearance. You bet. 

Also in this moment, my brain has calculated the approximate time it takes quasi-digested Cheerios to travel the wrong way through the esophagus of my four foot two son, and added that number to the equation of the distance bucket C has to travel from the bottom shelf to his face. It applies the correct forces of push and pull on appropriate muscles, ligaments, etc needed to get bucket C from  point A to point B, and so on, and so forth. 

I am successful. 

Nary a drop of puke on the floor. Thank you, brain... you are magnificent.

*********************

Now, I must tell you, the above story happened about three years ago... I was sound asleep until Brain decided to remind me of the incident, and insisted that I fire up the laptop and start typing at 2 am... 

I did pay for the bucket-o-barf ... I even had the foresight to grab a similar one for the cashier to ring up, so the poor girl wouldn't have to touch anything gross... said container went directly into a dumpster in the parking lot... just in case you were wondering...

Keep those minds sharp, people! You never know when you might need it :)