I. Am. Supermom.

For some people, vomit is like Kryptonite, effectively reducing grown men to tears and setting in motion a domino-like effect of mass destruction. For me, it is a catalyst. A super-power, if you will. Upon the first inkling of gastro-intestinal upset, my adrenaline starts pumping and every sense in my body becomes super-charged. I instantly have the power to jump backwards 20 feet in a single bound. I can carry another heaving human down the hall to the restroom with the velocity of a speeding bullet. I am able to withstand chemical burns and toxic levels of bleach inhalation in an effort to combat the enemy. And when disaster is averted, I am able to restore order and soothe my "dude in distress" (no effective male equivalent for damsel) with one embrace. I. Am. Supermom.