Or a spoon. Or some mashed potatoes on the spoon. Or a bean. Or an olive. Or the whiff of a poo diaper.

The list could go on and on. But it’s not me who is gagging. It’s Big A.

To say that he is sensitive would be like saying that the Grand Canyon is a crack in the ground. Or like Paris, Texas is as exciting as Paris, France. (No offense to anyone in Paris, Texas.)

Big A has a way of dealing with food that he doesn’t want to eat. He simply claims it makes him sick. Tonight, he had some spaghetti and meatballs on his plate and after eating about three micrograms of the total meatball, he declared that “so much more of it would make him sick.” When I told him to take another bite, he said he would prove that it would make him sick and proceeded to retch and gag before the food even touched his lips.

Now that’s some gag reflex. It’s so magical that he doesn’t even need the food in his mouth to be sick from it. Tonight’s retching was because he didn’t want more food. Sometimes, all it takes is seeing something on his plate for the gagging to start.

Take onions, for example. No matter how finely chopped they are, and no matter now buried they are in a bite of food with other bits and pieces, he is able to feel one sliver in his mouth and proceed to get sick from it. The gagging starts slowly, and even in the throws of a retch, he can work that onion out of his mouth while swallowing the rest of the food. It really is a sight to behold. You know that trick of tying a cherry stem with your tongue? It’s nothing compared to Big A’s work with a little onion.

And beans. Well, beans are a magical fruit alright, but not in the way the song goes. Big A just needs to know that beans are going to be on the menu and he starts the “ack, bleck, irp,” noises. It could be hours before he spots one, but he’s already in gag mode.

The best retching has to be induced by Little A’s poo diapers. He can be across the room and know that Little A has dropped the kids off in his pants. He’ll let us know. “Mom…blech, Little A…arrrp, has poop in his…blaaaaaaach diaper!” And when the stink is exposed to air during the diaper change, watch out. If we’re not careful, we’ll end up cleaning up vomit after cleaning up the diaper poo.

The best laugh I’ve had in a long time was a couple of nights ago. Little A was a little sick and so his diapers were rank. I mean R-A-N-K. I was lounging with a magazine next to the baby monitor while The Doc handled diaper duty at bedtime. Both wee beasts were in their room, so the poo aroma was magnified in the small enclosed space. The Doc opened the diaper. The Doc gagged. Big A gagged. Little A laughed. The Doc retched. Big A retched. Little A laughed and I started to laugh from the sounds I was hearing through the crackle and static. The Doc retched and retched. Big A was retching so badly I thought he was throwing up. Little A was starting to feel a bit offended by all of this and that made it even funnier. I think The Doc and Big A both had tears from the fumes and I had tears from laughing so hard at all of it.

So that whole “gag me with a spoon” thing? Boring. Come visit my house and we’ll show you what gagging is all about.