5 something a.m.---the boy is standing beside my bed.
he: there's throw up in my bed.
my first thought is oh great one of the cats hacked in his bed.
he: i threw up in my bed.
i try to rouse myself awake to fully understand what he's said. ok, he's thrown up. i look at the clock, dear lord it's still dark. i feel his forehead. no fever.
me: buddy, do you need to throw up again, let's go to the bathroom.
he: no, i'm fine can i sleep in here?
me: yes
sleep yes, back to sleep.
7 a.m. i hear hurling sounds, much like those cats give when they're warning you they're going to throw up, they wretch a bit and contort their bodies. i panic. the boy is in the middle of the bed, laying facing me. i'm about to get hurled on. i sit up and in what is almost like a choreographed moment he simultaneously leans over the bed and thankfully pukes on the floor and not me and not the bed. for a brief moment i almost hurl too. it is red. i won't go on. i grab a washcloth. he says he's ok now. i'm not buying it. i clean up the foulness. i think the hubs might have opened his eyes once but i can't be sure.
7 something a.m. the boy and i move to the den couch, puke bowl at the ready. he sips sprite. we doze off and on. just when i get sort of comfy with him on the couch he hurls again. still no fever, no other symptoms. he looks tired but otherwise it's just the random tossing of the contents. by now it's not even that much.
12:42 and i've been officially up for about two hours--by that i mean we are no longer dozing on the couch, the tv is on and the girl is up. the boy has eaten half a bowl of cereal. we'll see if it stays down. my own stomach is starting to feel iffy. i can't get sick. i have too much stuff going on at work this week.
total non sequitor warning
last night we took the kids to see national treasure, book of secrets. admittedly i came way late to the party. i just saw the first movie all the way through over christmas break. i liked it. for those uninitiated, nick cage (we need to talk about him) plays ben gates, a treasure hunter, but not for money, for the historical importance, yada yada of it all. he's a genius. he deciphers all kinds of cool stuff. the movies are very entertaining and interesting and frankly it's made the boy at least ask more about history and stuff so that can't be a bad thing. the girl is more concerned that there actually could be these fantastic treasures and she'd love to get her greedy paws on them. the stories, though fantastical, really don't seem like they're improbable. this was the same feeling i walked away with after i read the da vinci code. yes i realize it is fiction and i realize the national treasures are movies, but it could have happened.
so the second movie was good, totally leaves it open to a third but dude, if they do a third, nick cage needs to quit faking it. his hair distracted me the entire time. yes, he has a receding hairline and that's fine. it was the hair, it looked fake it looked like he was wearing not just a toupee but a wig or something, like even his forehead was fake. nick could totally pull off bald cos he has great facial features, but this fake stuff is ruining it for me.
2 comments:
"puke bowl at the ready"
I hear ya.
God, I hate middle-of-the-night puke wake-ups. They're the worst -- being disoriented & trying to clean up puke while trying not to hurl yourself. Gah.
Nic Cage. He can be hot sometimes, but not with fake hair/toup/forehead garbage. What's he using, that fake hair you could spray on from a can a few years back?
Mrs. A
probably the grossest thing about kids' puke is that (please tell me i'm not the only one who does this) you morbidly inspect it to see if you can miraculously find the cause of the hurling.
and as for nic--yes, it looked exactly like spray on hair. sad, so very sad.
lastly mrs. a---uh, are you ever gonna post again? : )
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