Look ma!

Sunday morning, around 8:00am, Satchel ran into my bedroom, stood next to me, and puked into his hands.

I jumped out of bed and led him to the toilet where he continued to throw up.

Now, why couldn't he just run to the toilet first, then tell me he was throwing up?

This puking thing has been going around, and as I have documented here, both boys have been eager to get it and miss a day from school. So I guess Murphy's Law would have it so they would be afflicted on a Sunday preceding a Monday holiday.

Once he puked, Satchel claimed to feel fine, and went back to doing whatever it was he was doing. I crawled back in bed and winced as my stomach began to cramp. Surely it's just because I saw Satchel puke I told myself. The cramping persisted, so I decided to get up and be productive before I was completely out of commission. I put Warren in charge and went outside to rake leaves.

A couple of hours later, Satchel and I were on the sofa with chills and a bucket. I eventually crawled into bed and searched in vain for a comfortable position. Thankfully I hadn't eaten anything so my "output" was manageable. I was eventually able to fall asleep, but was once again awakened by Satchel, who came in and said, "My throat is burning!"

"Go to the bathroom!" I yelped as I dragged myself out of bed.

He had attempted to eat a Dorito and was once again tossing his cookies. At least they all landed in the toilet.

We both got in my bed, drank some Gatorade, and then decided to move to the couch while Warren and Jiro ran some errands. I dozed for about 4 hours waking long enough to change the channel for Satchel when he asked. I eventually dragged myself off the couch to make some Chicken Noodle Soup. Satchel had a bowl and kept it down, but I was scared to eat anything. I stuck to my Gatorade.

Warren and Jiro finally returned and not surprisingly, Jiro began to complain that his tummy hurt. Hoping that he was just "empathizing" with me and Satch, I let him have a bowl of red grapes that he had picked out at the store.

I was feeling a bit better, so I decided to return a call to my college roommate. We talked for about 30 minutes and then Jiro came in and said, "I pooped in my pants."

Awesome.

I got him cleaned up and then started cleaning everything up. As I was making the boys' bed--something I normally do at 8am rather than 8pm--Jiro came rushing in (past his dad, and past the bucket!), looked at me wild eyed, and then puked RED GRAPES all over the carpet.

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I tried in vain to get him to the bathroom, but this only caused vomit to spread through three more rooms.

WARREN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I screamed as loud as I could.

Bad move.

The germophobe was now freaking out. Both boys went into the tub, the disinfectant wipes came out, and a cleaning frenzy began. I, of course, got the privilege of cleaning the carpet. (Thankfully the Flor promise of easy cleaning held up. I pulled up the stained squares, scrubbed them in the sink, and laid them out to dry, no problem.)

Satchel seemed to have stabilized, so I decided to let him sleep in my bed (with white sheets) with Warren while I slept in the boys' bed with Jiro, who I figured would be up all night. I covered the boys' bed with towels, brought in the bucket, and hoped Jiro would at least not puke on my face while I slept.

Amazingly, we had an uneventful night, slept in late, and have spent most of the day hydrating with no ill side effects.