I have suffered my share of this horrible virus, and it’s terrible.  When word vomit occurs, it doesn’t affect only you, it gets everyone around you.  I usually end up having to apologize, or at the very least, look like a jerk.

But, the worst of the worst is when your child gets the virus ...

Usually, one of the kids gets the virus at the worst time, about the worst subject.  Or, the nightmare of all word vomit moments, is when your child sees someone who is a little bit “different” than someone they’ve seen before.  There you are, fervently praying to yourself, “Dear Jesus, please render my child mute until we get to the car.  I promise to give more money to the needy if you do this one thing for me.  Amen.”  Funny thing about God is that he has a sense of humor and gave us free will, both which help the kids and horrify the moms.

My boys have suffered from the virus on occasion.   But for the most part they keep their thoughts to themselves, (or if they are unsure they’ll ask me later,) which I am grateful for, because I, of course am more than happy to answer any, and all questions.  

The girls, however ...

It is my firm belief that it is their mission to say or ask all word vomit-related questions as loud as possible.  And with as many people as possible around to hear. Chandler will just loudly ask whatever she wants, whenever she wants, without any kind of warning.  I can still (kind of) use the fact that she is three to “excuse” her affliction.

Autumn says whatever pops into her head the moment the thought arrives, no matter where we are, or who is around.  She has loudly asked if a woman with short hair was a boy, or if a man had a baby in his tummy.  She is seven, so no longer can I use age as her excuse.  I have discovered that when she is about to word vomit, she begins to talk out of the side of her mouth. Why she does that I have no idea, it’s not like she’s going to whisper it. She is going to say it just as loud, but out of the corner of her mouth.  Sometimes, I can spot a situtation that might cause her to suffer from the horrible virus.

And the moment I see her lean over and start talking out of the corner of her mouth, I either put my hand over her mouth or make the “don’t you dare speak” face.  Sometimes this helps, but sometimes no matter what I do, there is no stopping her.  Someday, she will learn that she needs to choose her words carefully.  Until then I will have to be on the look out for her “signal.”  I suppose I should be grateful she has a “signal,” since most kids don’t.  Trust me, I know ...