We’ve been sick. Down for the count, fevers, chills, body aches, congestion, and one dear son topped it off with a coughing spell that didn’t keep the contents of his stomach contained.
(This same dear child is a horrible puker, for the record.)
“I’m going to throw up.”
“Run to the bathroom!”
Child just stands there. Vomit happens.
“Get in the bathroom! Use the toilet!”
Blank stare. I move dear son to the toilet, a mere 3 feet away and proclaiming its ability to flush away vomit with far less fuss than the mess I’m facing in the hall.
He throws up down the outside of the toilet.
I’m trying to be patient here. I’m failing. Dear son asks if he can have a shower. I agree.
He spits on the floor.
For the love of all things germ free and fever reducing, just get in the shower.
Oh my word. My sanity is seriously threatened when we get sick.
Blaine’s sister and her family is here this week. We have 12 kids and 4 adults in 1,287 square feet at the moment. It’s a lovely thing. It would be far more lovely if I didn’t have to maintain ibuprofen intake to keep my fever down and if part of my children weren’t feeling the need to sleep the day away, but still. We’re 6/9 sick or sick and over it. Blaine, Ellie, and Charlie remain well, but Charlotte’s sneezing tonight starts the pattern and indicates of a sick girl tomorrow.
So far our guests remain well. We started this the morning of the day they arrived. They had something similar last week. Here’s to hoping we keep our germs to ourselves. And now, I’m off to buy stock in Kleenex, Tylenol, and bleach.