Sick. Again.

Two viruses in two weeks. Yes, this week's Virus of the Week is the 24-hour flu. It came in the middle of the night on Tuesday; I heard Bruce crying in his bedroom around 1:30 a.m. I rolled my eyes as I walked in, thinking he was fussing about ghosts or monsters or whatever. But he was lying in a puddle of vomit. It was pitiful. I started to clean him up, and luckily Scott got up and helped (Reason No. 6,438,915 why I married Scott). While Scott helped, I went and barfed too. I wasn't sure if I was just grossed out by the smell of Bruce's vomit or if I was sick too.

Bruce ralphed a few more times throughout the night, creating a mountain of nasty, odor-ific laundry. Scott left early in the morning to go to Duke for his med school interview; he felt nauseated, but thank goodness he didn't get really sick (that would be awful: barfing on the interviewer). By mid-morning, I was holding Bruce up so he could vomit into the sink (he refused to do it in the toilet) and then the urge hit me. Luckily, the toilet is within barfing distance of the sink in our bathroom. The rest of the day we lounged in front of the TV, sipped on ginger ale, and occasionally emptied our guts.

Thursday morning, Bruce bounced into my bed and announced that he would like french toast. Life is good again. Today we did mountains of really gross stinky laundry and disinfected every surface in the house.

By the way, the photo has nothing to do with this post. That's just Bruce showing off a toy he got in his advent calendar. Thanks Grandma!