We’re still in the throws of the Great Viral Epidemic of ‘09. But I wanted to share just a tad more information. More information than you wanted, I’m sure, but I’m all about full disclosure.
And this will be my last post involving vomit for 2009. Pinky swear.
After the virus ravaged nearly the entire household, there was one lone holdout. Emme. The melodramatic child prone to hypochondria. I thought she might be spared since she made out her will and I was finding notes to God scattered throughout the house.
Please don’t let me throw up.
On Sunday night, after a long arduous fluid filled day, we settled in for a nights rest. At 3 in the morning, I was awakened by a small Emme-like voice at the side of my bed, “mom.”
I knew the intonation in her voice immediately. The translation was “MOM! I’M ABOUT TO THROW UP ALL OVER YOU AND YOUR TIDY BED!”
With lightning fast speed and agility, which took every last amount of energy I could muster, I flew out of bed and began ushering Emme towards the toilet.
But Emme had a different idea. She wrongly assumed that if she didn’t actually GO to a toilet, she wouldn’t vomit. So she stopped dead in her tracks, two feet short of the toilet, placed both hands on the door frame and wouldn’t budge.
Have I mentioned lately that Emme is as tall as I am now, and twice as strong willed?
I had to tackle her to get her through the door jamb, and forcibly bend her at the waist to perfect the aim.
Right in the nick of time.
No more details here. Suffice it to say that Emme’s reaction to The Virus far surpassed the rest of the family. It would make the annual Christmas letter. If I had the energy to actually pen a Christmas letter.
Today, we seem to be on the long road to recovery. And my culinary skills are going to be perfecting The Bland Diet. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers. And a special thank you to my Tweeps who held my head hand through all of this.
Have a Merry Christmas my sweet friends!