Never fails. My husband can bless me with his presence for two weeks straight, and nary a germ dares to light on any of the little people in this house. But the minute he gets on an airplane, the noses start running, the puking begins, or out comes the liquid Immodium.
Everyone was in high spirits this morning as we waved good-bye to Daddy from the window. There may have even been a boy or two using the couch as a trampoline. Right after lunch, however, Jacob came to me complaining of a headache. I gave him some Motrin and snuggled down with him in my bed. It wasn't long until everything--and I mean EVERYTHING--came up, Lunchables and all.
The vomit settled it. All other activities canceled: errands, library run, Alex and Michael's first basketball practice. When I broke the news to Michael, he said, "Well, just tell my coach it's OK if I miss practice. I played basketball last year." I think maybe we need to emphasize the Practice makes perfect adage around here. He thinks he's about to be drafted by the NBA because he played last year...remember the Michael Dimension?
Anyway, we got cleaned up, and Jacob fell asleep. He slept until dinnertime. When he woke up, I asked him if he felt like eating anything. Maybe some pasta? Some toast? Soup? He shook his head at all of my suggestions. "Well, what would you like?" I asked him.
"I want breakfast."
Poor guy. He thought he had slept the whole night through! He ended up not eating anything and fell back asleep. He woke up briefly for more Motrin and is now sound asleep again on his Daddy's side of the bed.
Here's hoping his internal clock is not expecting sunrise at 3AM!