Yuck. The 24 hour flu has come and gone for our family. And make that right AFTER I just finished all the laundry! {still not sure if that's a blessing or a curse... maybe both?}
It all started Tuesday morning, when I got the boys out of their rooms, and found Einstein's delicious-looking and smelling vomit on the floor. Sweet. I was so thrilled, considering that last night's dinner included, red sphagetti sauce, red strawberries, and blue blueberries. Thus, our carpet became those colors in uneven lumps and splotches by his bedside. Gotta love it.
Good to know that I just so happen to know a great carpet cleaner (go check out Phoenix Industries, you won't regret it!), so I wasn't too terribly worried. A little FYI, though; red stains eventually do come out, but with extreme difficulty!
Anyway, seeing as Einstein had already dumped the contents of his stomach onto our floor and he was acting fine, I figured that he was okay. No fever, no lethargy, no other signs of lingering sickness. So we go about our day, and I promptly file the event to the back of my mind. Until I get barfed on THREE TIMES by Curly! (If you've read the previous post, you will note that Curly just had a Birthday. This also notes the first time that he has ever been sick. The funny thing is that the same thing happened to Einstein on his 1st Birthday as well. I hope this doesn't become a weird family tradition!) Same gross red/pink tint and marvelous smell. Except it's on me now. What I've always wanted for Christmas; thanks Santa Claus!
So Curly gets to bed early, for obvious reasons. He had an upset tummy, and me being the genious I am deduced that he got sick from his brother. I'm a fast one, I am.
I figure, disaster averted, we are all okay now. Ahem, not so!
Bryan and I had a million things to finish up that night. He got home way late (almost midnight) from school, and we had some business follow-ups to attend to. I was tired, and all I wanted to do was go to bed! At around 1:45, I got my wish. Until I heard a baby crying in the boys' room... oh no, here we go!
Bry and I both go in there just in time to find Einstein throwing up again. We both rush over, and me being the supermom-I-laugh-in-the-face-of-germs girl that I am, decide the best decision to make -in .0000021 seconds- is to catch his barf in my hand while Bryan grabs a barf bowl. And boy, we needed that barf bowl! My poor little guy had a HARD night; we camped out in the bathroom for hours of joyous merrymaking barfing.
It was SO not a fun night.
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