it always takes a few seconds for my brain to register what that strange noise actually was, and when it finally does, its like, "oh crud, this can't be happening. no. please, nooooo!"
unfortunately, that state of denial doesn't last very long because moments later, that dreaded noise surfaces yet again, louder and with more force than the time before, letting you know that Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore. in other words, wake up, this is not a dream.
shortly thereafter, you're hit by wall of stench so powerful that there's simply no mistaking it. at all. for that's when you realize that yes, your kid has indeed been stricken with the Barfs, and it's two something something in the morning.
time to call in the reinforcements.
fortunately, Gary and I have joined together and formed a pact for these types of situations which goes something along the lines of this: one of us bathes the ill, screaming child (if they're not old enough to take care of it themselves), while the other begins scraping chunks off the carpet and tossing the soiled sheets into the wash. because let's face it. who wants to be the lonely only left to clean up a disaster of such magnificent proportions? certainly not I, that's for sure. especially at such an unearthly hour.
so anyway, this (what I just described above) has been the going trend around here for the past few nights. first Rowan, then a couple nights later, Scarlett. and actually Finley threw up a fair amount of formula last evening so maybe he had a touch of it as well? at his age, who knows. and oh, I almost forgot. as I was up blogging late last night, Sawyer burst out of his bedroom door, that look of panic written in his eyes, like, help I'm about to hurl! and whoops. he didn't quite make it to the toilet.
note to self: don't fix spaghetti for dinner while the flu bug is going around.
oh you guys, isn't this such a lovely topic? yeah, apparently I thought so too, because here I am blogging about it.
but let's not leave here today with a bad taste in our mouths, shall we?
in other, less disgusting news, my kids have been collecting golfballs by the hundreds from the pond near our new place (if you recall, the house that we're currently remodeling is on the golf course) and selling them for anywhere from 25 to 75 cents a piece, depending on the brand, condition, etc.
after three days of peddling their wares, they've raked in just under $140.
|here they are about to make a sale.|
no, actually it'll be the perfect thing for them this summer, especially for the older ones who are at that age where they want spending money, but aren't quite old enough to get a job.
so there you have it, the latest and greatest news from Room For... actually there's no vacancy, I just checked.
hope today finds you barf-free.