Maybe that was over dramatic.
We have been hit hard with a really bad cold and, thus, have been stuck in the house for nearly a week. Hank got hit with it really hard, which leads us to a kind of funny story. Not really funny in a "OMG that's stand-up worthy comedy", but more of a "Yeah, sometimes that's how things go when you're a parent" kind of funny.
I shall warn you now, there are bodily fluids contained in this story... please skip down until you see pictures if you're squeamish.
Consider yourself warned.
Ahem. The boys had been a little sick on Tuesday, but not alarmingly so, considering they were still getting over colds they had contracted a couple of weeks prior. But when Hank woke up Wednesday morning, he had a fever. Not a bad one, he was just warmer and fussier than usual. He wasn't up to eating much, but then Johnny really wasn't either, so I just chalked it up to cold symptoms. After all, eating with a stuffy nose and a sore throat is certainly not a good time.
Well, even though the boys were obviously getting sick with a new cold, I had to leave the house. I had just used the last wet wipe and was perilously close to being out of diapers for Johnny (he refuses to use cloth). So, we went to Target, that beacon of all things necessary and delightfully unnecessary. In order to get Johnny in the car, however, I had to promise him that we would get hot dogs afterward at Costco since I had to go there, too. Our Target trip passed without incident (except for two young boys running rampant through the store... in different directions).
We got to Costco, picked up a couple of hot dogs for the boys and sat down to eat those hot, grease-laden treats. Hank and Johnny sat on the other side of the table, downing every piece of cooled hot dog I put in front of them. They took down a hot dog and half of the other before they were sated. And then they wanted to throw away the trash. So I sat and tore up pieces of napkin for them to throw away, while chatting with the nice older man next to me.
And then I hear it.
Johnny's laughter ringing out through the eating area. Not like a little laugh, it was full-on belly laughing, nearly maniacal. So I turn around with a big smile on my face to see what he's laughing at... and see Johnny lying on the concrete rolling around with laughter while Hank is vomiting up pieces of hot dog. In the middle of the thoroughfare.
So I grabbed a whole bunch of napkins to clean up Hank (and catch the vomit still coming up) and Johnny continued laughing. The whole time. I clean up the area and book it to the van so that I can get my little sickie home, but I realize that I didn't get any red juice, which is what I promised to get for Hank since he was sick. Which is how we ended up in Trader Joe's, looking around for a suitable "red juice" while Johnny is laughing hysterically in the cart saying, "Hank puked up the hot dog!" and then laughing some more, while other shoppers were trying hard to laugh themselves because Johnny's laugh really is quite contagious.
After that initial vomiting session, we stayed home, where Hank's fever got worse and he wouldn't keep any food down, so we ended up at the doctor, who prescribed an inhaler. He also gave me a prescription for an antibiotic, but said I shouldn't cash it in unless Hank didn't get better. He finally turned the corner on Saturday and is now recovering.
But we're still like a leper colony since we can't leave the house since we're sick... something that's hard to explain to a 3 year old.
|Fevery toddler just wants to go back to bed. But not enough to actually go back to bed.|
|All he wanted for me to hold him.|
|This is his "Why can't we go to the park?!?!?!" face.|
|Napping on the couch like a boss.|