I have two words for you...projectile vomit

I love my daughters. I really do but I can't help but be grossed out by the smell or worse...feeling the warm gooeyness running down my arm. Blech! But last night I couldn't help but be amused by it since I was not the victim.

I was in the kitchen and Alberto was in the bedroom with Eva trying to calm her down. Every night at about 9:30 Eva starts crying with gas pains. Since I'm SAHM I happily handed her off to her father to get a bit of break so that I cold iron his work clothes and Alex's uniform for the next day. I suddenly hear, "Vero!!!!!" and I run to the bedroom to see vomit shooting out of my 8 week old's mouth a la The Exorcist and a look of sheer panic in Alberto's face. I don't think that he's ever had the pleasure of being vomitted on. I quickly got her out of her pajamas and cleaned up and let her Papi clean up the mess. Now if only I could arrange for a poop up the back episode when I'm not home....(insert evil laugh)