Hz, oh Hz

Hz has been starting to see order in things these last few months. Unfortunately this does not translate into orderliness in terms of toys being put away (he's brilliant at it at dagmamma), or shoes being put on the shoe rack.
Today was the ultimate in 'testing-moments of parenthood'. WARNING-do not read whilst eating.
Hz, who still insists in using a nappy for number 2's, went off to his usual corner to make use of the fresh nappy, and fiddle with M's Prince of Persia figures. For some of us certain over the counter medicines are required, but apparently a good fiddle with Lego helps things along. Anyway, I had been thinking that a nappy hadn't been filled for a couple of days now. I was frying a second burger for S (growing lad) when Hz came up to me to request I sort his nappy out. The urgency in his voice made me back down on making him wait while I finished the cooking. The nappy couldn't take it, and so the floor had to. So with all the rushing to the bathroom, screams at everyone not to walk in the hall, DH arriving back with H, momentarily terrified as to why I was screaming like a lunatic, I tried to sort out Hz, whilst simultaneously directing everyone to clear up/ stay out of the poo all over the floors. So this is bad enough, and then I smell burning and realise the burger is burnt to a cinder and S is trying to rescue it. I run to the kitchen, ignoring my own warnings and step right in IT.
Don't worry, I've come to expect these sort of situations, but this was a bit of a classic.
And so why wasn't I surprised when about an hour later, Hz  announced he had a tummy ache, and proceeded to vomit all over me.