Sunday, the only day I have off these days. There's no energy for cooking on my part so most often Sundays involve a meal or two out. Miete and Lisa have really been into the pizza lately at one of Culver's best places, Pitfire Pizza so off we went for lunch.
I'm dragging ass today as I have come down with the same cold that three people sitting around me have. Lisa and the kids go in and make the order while I decide to go to a nearby store to buy a hat for surfing. I exit the parking lot and see that it is at least two blocks away and my cold tells me that there's no way I am willing to hoof it the five hundred yards down the street so I turn around and head back in to the restaurant.
With our orders in, I grab a highchair and we head to our table. The tables around us were swelling with 13 year olds from Santa Monica Rugby Club and they were systematically destroying the pizzas placed in front of them. I think Pitfire must have gone through most of the dough they prepared that morning by the time they left.
Our food arrived. Lisa and Miete had pizzas and I opted for the baked Mac n' cheese wanting something different. We ate our meals while the teens jumped from booth to booth shoveling varying forms of Italian food into their mouths.
Eireland was sitting in Lisa's lap gurgling away and playing with a toy on the table. Miete was beside me on my side of the table and about half way through her pizza. She stopped and focused on Eireland as Lisa and I were having a conversation and said, "Eireland has something in her mouth."
We both looked at Eireland who was at this point, choking with no breath coming out or going in. Lisa flipped her over on her belly and I got out my phone and started to dial 911. Lisa hit her three times in the back with the heel of her palm, the life saving technique we learned in first aid. On the fourth thump I watch what can only be described as a Linda Blair like fountain of blended peas fly out of her mouth and both nostrils. The Exorcist, right here at my table.
The entire contents of Eireland's stomach shot out and all over the bench seat of the table and the floor below us. An ample portion landed on, in and around Lisa who now looked like Father Karass covered in pea soup vomit.
I canceled my call and Eireland regained her breath and started to cry.
She never went blue or beet red but she was certainly choking. Lisa searched the puke and swept her mouth and came up with a wadded up chunk of napkin that Eireland had torn off without us noticing. Once she had jammed it in her mouth and soaked it with baby spit it formed a real nice wad which then lodged in her throat.
We are both very happy we did first aid when we were expecting Miete or had just had her years ago. I cannot recommend it enough. But we are not the heros. No, we are just the unwitting clods which went about our business as our youngest choked. Miete is the true hero here and we made sure we told her so.
I leaned down to her and hugged her and said, "You're the best big sister in the world. You saved your sister's life! I think you deserve something special today."
She looked up at me and said, "Ice cream."