...yesterday from my friend Amy, the one who hosted the Thanksgiving dinner we so, so enjoyed. I knew I shouldn't have written that all-too-gleeful post. (jinx,jinx, jinx -- I'm such an effing idiot.)
Her mom and stepdad, Amy told me, had been up all night -- vomiting.
(And here I was worried about Amy's dogs suffering from my kids' attentions.)
I immediately wondered if anything I brought was to blame, but apparently several of her mom's co-workers have succumbed in the last few days to a nasty stomach bug.
Within hours of the phone call, E-man had yakked all over the living room floor, right in front of the television. (Yes, the Wiggles have that effect on me too, but it was a bit much, really.)
Then he threw up on the couch and all over me. I changed him again, for the second time, and tried not to imagine my husband frolicking gleefully along the sidelines at the Arkansas-LSU game. (OK, yeah, he was working, but still... Barfing toddler or watching a fieldful of sweaty, hulking, and eventually, pissed-off, men...? Hmmm... not much difference, I guess. Lots of whining regardless.)
Thankfully, E-man was fine this morning. And so far, no one else has fallen ill. Couch cushions, having been scrubbed vigorously, are now on the deck drying & airing out.
I think I may love Lysol more than anything else at this precise moment.
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