At 4:30 Friday morning I was awoken by the precious pitter patter of little feet running harem skarem toward the bathroom. Then the dulcet tones of the 4yo puking in the toilet. I do not lie when I tell you that she threw up 18 times in the next 24 hours.
The 7yo was less than gracious about the feelings of the 4yo suffering the flu. She went so far as to jump on the bed, not thinking that her sister, who had vomit coming out of her ears, was really all that sick.
But ah! flu bugs. They are so democratic. Seeking out the nearest host regardless of arrogant denial that you'll get sick too. Quickly the 7yo was felled. Guess who was the bigger baby when it was her turn to hang her head in tidy-bowl land?
But we survived, and began the process of recovery. We sustained a full day and a half of vomit free living. From early Sunday morning until....Until tonight. 7yo pretended that her lettuce in her salad was making her gag. Until it did. Then she went to the bathroom and threw up. Cheerfully returned to the table and announced that her lettuce made her throw up. Smiled, even.
Following suit, the 4yo thought her noodles might make her sick. She ran to the bathroom and threw up. Into the toilet. Not realizing that she had started something she couldn't finish, she shut the lid.
Then she puked spaghetti all over the toilet lid, the toilet tank, the bowl and most of the floor surrounding the toilet.
Did I mention that Ben is out of town on a corporate field trip?
Mother's day is not enough to cover shit like this.
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