One very distinct memory I have from childhood was being woken in the middle of the night by a sound I had never experienced before. The most wretched, vocal, miserable hurling noise emanating from the bathroom. It had a familiar tone to it and I soon realized it was my dad throwing up.
Fast forward to Aaron and I flying out to visit my folks the summer we were engaged. Same horrible, drama-rific noise comes forth from my husband-to-be as he pukes his guts up during his first time on an airplane. It’s like he’s vocalizing while vomiting.
Jump forward a few more years to a few weeks after the birth of my son. I’m driving and suddenly hear gurgling, hacking, drama filled, miserable noise coming from the back seat. It’s accompanied by Ella shouting, “Little Man chucked! Little Man chucked!”
My mom doesn’t sound like that when she gets sick, neither does my sister, or Ella. I certainly don’t think I do.
I think it’s a guy thing.