One of Those Nights
What, pray tell, is the deal with vomit lately?
A mere five days after the Boy erupted at the Christmas program, the Girl decided to give it a go.
And if there was some kind of warped sibling rivalry over whose puke packs the most punch, the Girl wins, hands down. (Hey, if I've taught that girl anything, it is to never do something half-assed.)
It all started with about three minutes left of Monday Night Football. I had just turned the game off; it was a blow out. Time for bed.
When suddenly a blood-curdling scream came from the Girl's bedroom.
This better be good, I thought to myself. Let me guess: a spider? Or did she hear the house creaking and cracking from the stupid -12ยบ F temperatures we had last night?
No. Her screaming was justified.
When I flipped on her bedroom light, there she was sitting upright in bed and howling, with a colorful array of yuck in a massive puddle in front of her. A frickin' explosion.
Linda Blair had nothing on her.
It quickly became apparent that it was going to be one of those nights.
After the mess was cleaned up, we relocated downstairs and set up "sick camp." A glass of water, a can of 7-Up and the obligatory Blue Bunny Family Size ice cream bucket ("Now With 33% More!") at the ready.
I burned the midnight oil with the Girl (she heaving every 20 minutes or so, me re-assuring her that it would end soon). I stayed up until 4:00 AM when the Wife tag-teamed me so I could get two hours of sleep.
We are now going on 15 hours of spewing, but it seems things are slowing down a bit. As the Girl wailed during the night, "I hate being sick!"
You said it, sister.
Ever the intuitive animals, even our dogs were concerned this morning. Lulu, who we lovingly call "the devil dog" (because she is) and even more often, "the dingo," was especially affectionate - quite unusual for one of Satan's very own.
Lulu jumped on the couch. She sniffed the Girl's hair. Licked her nose. Spun in four or five circles, nestled in close and gave a big sigh. And didn't even try to chew the Girl's eyes off.
Not even once.
Indeed, quite unusual for one of Satan's very own.
A mere five days after the Boy erupted at the Christmas program, the Girl decided to give it a go.
And if there was some kind of warped sibling rivalry over whose puke packs the most punch, the Girl wins, hands down. (Hey, if I've taught that girl anything, it is to never do something half-assed.)
It all started with about three minutes left of Monday Night Football. I had just turned the game off; it was a blow out. Time for bed.
When suddenly a blood-curdling scream came from the Girl's bedroom.
This better be good, I thought to myself. Let me guess: a spider? Or did she hear the house creaking and cracking from the stupid -12ยบ F temperatures we had last night?
No. Her screaming was justified.
When I flipped on her bedroom light, there she was sitting upright in bed and howling, with a colorful array of yuck in a massive puddle in front of her. A frickin' explosion.
Linda Blair had nothing on her.
It quickly became apparent that it was going to be one of those nights.
After the mess was cleaned up, we relocated downstairs and set up "sick camp." A glass of water, a can of 7-Up and the obligatory Blue Bunny Family Size ice cream bucket ("Now With 33% More!") at the ready.
I burned the midnight oil with the Girl (she heaving every 20 minutes or so, me re-assuring her that it would end soon). I stayed up until 4:00 AM when the Wife tag-teamed me so I could get two hours of sleep.
We are now going on 15 hours of spewing, but it seems things are slowing down a bit. As the Girl wailed during the night, "I hate being sick!"
You said it, sister.
Ever the intuitive animals, even our dogs were concerned this morning. Lulu, who we lovingly call "the devil dog" (because she is) and even more often, "the dingo," was especially affectionate - quite unusual for one of Satan's very own.
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| Lulu watching over a very sick Girl. 10 December 2013 |
Lulu jumped on the couch. She sniffed the Girl's hair. Licked her nose. Spun in four or five circles, nestled in close and gave a big sigh. And didn't even try to chew the Girl's eyes off.
Not even once.
Indeed, quite unusual for one of Satan's very own.
