As I write this, my poor little seven year old boy lies next to me on the couch. (Crap. Is it lays, lies, lay? Man, I know we went over this in high school English. Ugh.) He is moaning in his sleep, flush faced and trying desperately to sleep off a 102.6 fever. Poor thing. At least he finally ate something. And kept it down.
Last night, he refused to eat dinner. This morning, he refused breakfast. While the rest of us ate our bowls of oatmeal, he threw up in the kitchen trash can. I could hear my daughter dry heaving a room away. Nothing like that lovely sound. But, here’s the thing – I think I’ve lost my other-people-vomiting gag reflex. For two weeks straight now, I’ve cleaned up some sort of mess off the couch or out of the carpet. And yet, no gagging. Odd. I even watched the dog barf the other day. Nothing. (By the way – if you pour white vinegar over the stain, sprinkle it with baking soda and leave it a few days to dry, the stain will vacuum right up.)
This lack of other-people-vomiting gag reflex leads me to believe I am either one of two things: A really bizarre Superhero or a mother. Yep. Well, you caught me. I’m not wearing a cape. In fact, I’m wearing an oversized sweater that my son said looked like a weird dress. That must make me a mom. The cleaner upper, make-me-better, hold my hand, put a cool rag on my head, bring me water mom.
After two weeks in Vomit Town, I may be no super hero, but I’m pretty sure I might soon be named mayor.
Here’s hoping you steer clear of this stomach bug. Believe me, you don’t want to run against me for this job.