I had assumed that my illness was food poisoning. It was fast and violent. And I had eaten one meal away from my family, explaining why I was the only one who was sick. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
The boy had a super short nap yesterday, and still being tired myself, I was a little short with him. He was whiny when he got up and kept saying he had to cough. I was on the computer so I told him to come sit in my lap while I worked. Then he vomited. All. Over. Me.
I know I mentioned how much I hate to vomit. I failed to mention how much I just hate vomit.
Poop I can handle. Vomit is my husband's job. Too bad he was in San Diego for the day. Which turned out bad for him too since he was vomiting also. At least they they were both spared the attack at the other end of the system. Now that I think about it, thank god I was spared a second round by proxy. It's the little things.
At least with the man gone and the boy in bed early I could indulge my most shameful guilty pleasure...America's Next Top Model.
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