Sleepovers are all fun.....until someone throws up.

Everett, my 7 y/o, has been asking to have a sleepover with some of his friends, for as long as I can remember.  The delay has not been if  Everett was ready, but if his friends were ready to stay a night away from home.  It has been one of the goals in his life, and he has spent many hours imagining and planning all of the fun things that he and his friends will do......most of which somehow involved explosions of some sort.  (he has a huge imagination)  With the new backyard swing/playset/fort thingy that Santa somehow managed to sneak in for Christmas, Everett felt this was the perfect opportunity to have friends over for a night of good times.  He invited 2 of his buddies to come home with us from Church to spend the day, and sleep over.  None of the boys had ever spent the night away from home, so there was discussion among the parents regarding a backup plan, just in case any of the boys stout bravery at 1 P.M., began to fade at 1 A.M.  With the security of a backup plan in place, we loaded up, and headed home.  The day was filled with lots of laughs, and LOUD kiddos running around the yard being pirates, indians, spacemen, and whatever their little brains could come up with.  At age 7, there is not a whole lot more entertainment that is needed, past their own imaginations.  They do however, need food.  So we decided to crank up the ice cream maker, and get some pizzas.  After a successful dinner, we decided it was time to institute a "calm" activity, in hopes of getting them to calm down enough to eventually go to sleep.  (yes, we dream big around here)  We laid out a huge blanket, and some pillows in front of the living room T.V., and popped in a movie, "Night at the museam, 2".  The three 7 y/o boys decided that the blanket was a boat, and NO little brothers were allowed, much to the disliking of my 3 y/o, Harrison, who was banished to the couch.  About 1/2 way into the movie, I noticed one of the boys rubbing his tummy and making a face.  I asked if he was OK, and he said he was fine, and that he must have eaten a cookie that he didn't like.  As I watched him, fidget from the comforts of the  boat blanket on the floor, up on to the couch and curl up in a little ball, much to the disliking of a very disgruntled Harrison, it became clear that we were in serious trouble.  Harrison, who was up WAY past his bedtime, and feeling a bit cranky by now, was not thrilled that now one of the boat boys had invaded his space on the couch, and kept crying that he wanted to sit in the very spot that his intruder now occupied.   After asking the obviously distressed little boy if he was OK several times, and each time him trying in vein to reassure me that he was, in fact, feeling fine, and having fun,  I decided I had better call his Mom, in hopes that she could determine if he really was feeling bad, or if I was over reacting.  As he spoke quietly to his Mom, I heard him cough one of those little coughs, that every Mother knows, precedes vomit.  Yes, there it was, and I knew what was coming next.  So did his helpless Mom, who from the other end of the phone,  yelled, "RUN to the bathroom, QUICK!!!"  That little "cough" instantly threw the entire universe into slow motion.  I watched from across the room, in slow motion, his poor body heave up every speck of nutrition he had ingested in the past 2 days.....all over the phone, the couch, the floor, and any toys lying nearby.  Gallons on vomit, rejected from his little body, projectile style, as he held my now vomit covered cell phone in his hand, and his Mom listening on the other end. 
Let me just say, that a sleepover is all fun and games, until someone throws up. Then, what began as an exciting, fun night of good times, can disolve in a matter of seconds into a chaos, that one must experience first hand, to really, fully appreciate.  My husband jumped up to help the little guy, and scooped him up to the bathroom....I ran to get a bucket and immediate towels from the kitchen.....my oldest son Hayden ran to get big towels from the bathroom, and scooped up baby Carson who was crawling directly and excitedly towards the fun....my 3 y/o Harrison, saw his opportunity to now sit on the part of the couch he so desired, and did just that, right in the middle of the vomit.....our other guest, who obviously has an aversion to vomit, began to cry, and pace back and forth, saying, "Oh no.  There is vomit everywhere.  I'd better go home now."    What started in slow motion, was now going in fast forward.  I didn't seem to have enough hands, or mental capacity, to direct everyone quick enough.  I'm trying to comfort and clean a very sweet little boy, who, as he was covered in his own vomit, was appologizing profusely for what had just happened, and at the same time trying to comfort another very distraught, obviously traumatized, little boy who was by now REALLY pacing and crying about all of the vomit, while running his fingers thru his hair, and his claims that he was now sick....HOMESICK....and that his Daddy needed to be called immediately to come and get him.  This, while telling my hubby to put Harrison, who had so triumphantly reclaimed his rightful place on the vomit covered couch,  into the shower.  At the same time, I am telling my oldest son what to do with an 11 month old baby who NOW decided he needed a bottle and cuddle from Mom, and was making his demands known.  I called the poor Mom, who had just listened in horror as her baby boy threw up at his first sleepover, and let her know what was going on.  She said she was already on the way over to get him.  I then called the other little guy's Dad, and inform him of the "issue" at hand, and to let him know his son was now, without any shadow of doubt, certain that he was ready to go home.
With all of the chaos, I had not even had one second to look at Everett, who had started this day with such excitment about his first sleepover.  As I was in the kitchen, filling the water on the carpet cleaner, I looked up to see my sweet Everett, standing in the middle of his blanket boat....the lone survivor of a deep sea adventure that appears to have run aground.  He stood there, silent and still, with tears in his eyes and his hands out stretched, as if all of his dreams had just slipped thru his fingers like sand.  Then, it was time to comfort him.   As I gave him a hug, I tried to reassure him that there would be plenty of other sleepovers, and reminded him of all of the fun he and his friends had earlier in the day.  Then his friend, who was by now feeling much better after the offending contents of his stomach had been rejected, came over and said, "I'm feeling much better now, can I stay?"  There was a slight spark of hope in Everett's eyes with the possability of salvaging this wrecked ship, to which, I had to reply, "You know, I think we've all had enough excitment for one night.  It's time for everyone to go to bed."  His other friend with the vomit phobia, never once diverted his thinking from "Yes, get me outta here quick!"  So, as my husband made arrangments with this boy's Dad to get him home to safety, our other friend was taken home by his Mom, who was so kind to stay for a bit, and helped clean up the mess. 
When all was said and done, and his friends were in the safety of their own homes, there was some comfort for Everett with a midnight run to Quicktrip for a donut, and the promise of another sleepver in the future, with even bigger plans for fun, and maybe this time, one of the fun things would involve an explosion, of some sort.