Brotherly Love Forgives Even Vomit

So last night was interesting, in an amusing train wreck sort of way.

We did not get to go Christmas caroling again last night. Zee called from school, twice, while I was walking up to get his little sister from kindergarten. He had a stomach ache. By the time I got back home, saw the messages, and called the school, however, he was back in his classroom, acting just fine. So I left him there, wondering idly if he was bored.

After school he was fine, as well. (Especially after I reminded him that he was going over to a friend's house, so I could finish the last bit of Christmas shopping.) At dinner, though, he started to droop, and complain of being cold. He seemed a little warm to me, so instead of going out into the chilly wind and cold night, we stayed in. All the kids got cozy in bed, and Daddy read "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" aloud for an hour, until true bedtime.

At about four in the morning, I awoke to the unmistakable sounds of sickness. Hurrying into the boys' room, I found that Zee had vomited all over Gee, who had been sleeping next to him. Lovely. Although, remarkably, both boys were dealing quite well with the situation. Nobody was screaming, crying, or even whining (too much). Luckily, Gee only got tagged on his sweatpants, and a quick change and wipedown had him happy again. Zee was feeling better, as often happens after emptying your stomach, and submitted cheerfully to the wiping and changing. Within ten minutes, we had them back off to dreamland.

All the hullabaloo woke the baby up, and she needed some grub to help her get back to sleep. But she rewarded me with the sweetest baby smile you ever saw, as I laid her back down in her crib.

And then, of course, I laid in my bed for 30 minutes, wide awake. Oh, well.