PukeFest 2010

Mothers always tell me that their own kid's bodily yuckiness doesn't make them gag. I, personally, find that what comes out of my child's body can be so vile it makes me dry heave.
Last night was no exception. Juni came home from VBS at 9:30 p.m., totally worked up and singing something about God being his hero. Completely adorable. He fell asleep in my bed, and slept in his until midnight. And that's when the fun began.
He woke up, screaming "Mommy!" Let me explain something - my child wakes up screaming my name several times a week. It's insane. And annoying. But every time, I dash into his room, trying to get there before Jasen wakes up. I call him a sleeping bear at night. "Don't wake the Daddy Bear, Juni! He bites!"
I get into Juni's room in time for him to tell me that his tummy hurts. Uh-Oh. Before I can find the puke bucket, he's spewing half-digested mystery food two feet in front of his body. On the bed. On the pillows. On his pants. In his hair. The smell overtakes he room, and me.
It's at this point that I realize I definitely need backup. I wake the sleeping bear for puke patrol. I'm opening windows, tuning on fans, gagging and dry-heaving. Juni is busy sloshing around his bed in his own vomit.
Once he takes a break, Jasen holds him up by his armpits, and I strip him of his sodden clothes. Bits of goo and mush scatter across his carpet. His white, Berber carpet. Ugh.
Jasen takes care of the bath, and I strip his bed and stuff everything into the wash. I'm giving my lungs a workout, holding my breath as long as I can before dashing into the hallway for fresh air. It's 95 degrees outside, the air is pumping full time, and I don't care. I'm basically just trying to preserve my dinner, which was wonderful going down, but would be completely miserable coming back up.
I actually had to vacuum up bits of barf off of his floor. I thought using carpet cleaner and 7th Generation on the bed frame would help mask the smell. Not so much. It smelled like an elementary hallway when a kid looses their lunch and the janitor covers it in that pink saw dusty stuff. (Umm...yeah...I literally just got the nausea lump in my throat).
To sum up a long night, I'd sleep for an hour, Juni would puke. I'd sleep for another hour, Juni would puke. He's such a good kid...much better than me when I'm sick. He'd use his little bucket (the pink rectangular one you get at the hospital when you deliver), take a sip of water, and go right back to bed.
This morning he puked again, but everything after the initial PukeFest 2010 has been nothing but clear fluid. I have no idea what the kid ate that's made his stomach so pissed off, but at this point he hasn't eaten in more than 12 hours. And of course I'm terrified to feed him. And he's feeling fine. He'll hand me the pink puke pail and immediately ask "Mommy, where we going today?"
Oy...