Our Baby Was Sick and My Husband Left

For twenty-four hours.

Photo by Jenna Norman on Unsplash

After spending the day playing, reading, feeding, and making elephant noises, I put our daughter down for the night. Ten minutes later, she let out a loud scream and started crying.

You know, that loud scream/ cry that makes every parent panic and every not-parent look at you like you’re an asshole.

I ran into the nursery and found the baby and crib covered in vomit.

From the living room, I heard, “Is she ok?”

My husband. Sat on the couch, PlayStation controller in hand, where he had been for the entire day.

Apart from the labored hikes through rough terrain to the refrigerator every time he needed another beer.

I asked him to come and help me, as I soothed our daughter. He strolled into the nursery about three minutes later, saying, “I had to get to a saving point in the game.”

I googled freaking Assassin's Creed. You can pause it at any time. So…fuck off.

I death stared at him while singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and pondered what it would be like to punch someone in the face.

It would definitely hurt me more than him, so not today.