So we're sitting in McCalister's Deli and our food arrives. We were splitting a club sandwich, macaroni and cheese and a fruit salad (mainly for the MonkeyBear, he loves him some fruit). I pick up a macaroni on a fork and try to feed it to the little guy. He shakes his head "no" which is odd for him when it comes to mac and cheese. I try again, he insists "no."
Then the vomiting started. Four gushing waves of everything he'd eaten in the past 8 hours parading rapidly down his front. I run for help from behind the counter, informing a teen-aged boy that I need a box and some bags and he needs a mop because my son just wrecked the area around the table where we were sitting.
Despite the giant mess they still hadn't come out to clean up by the time we were packed up to leave. My wife said she felt bad just leaving I responded, "I can't go back and get a mop myself." We had told 3 people by this time and a couple other customers had almost stepped in it.
So we left.
After that he was fine. We fed him some crackers and water and sent him to bed. He slept for a good 3 hours and then as we were getting in bed and about to fall asleep we heard a sound. He had done it again and got it all over his head and pajamas. So we had an 11 p.m. shower and rocking session (in which he threw-up again). I made a Pedialite run and called the 24-hour nurse hotline to be safe.
So we survived our first stomach bug. . . so far. I'm really impressed by my wife's involvement in all this. She normally isn't good with bodily fluids, especially of this variety. But from the start she even picked the little guy up in the restaurant to comfort him knowing full well she's get it on her. And she's cleaned him up a few more times since. She's an amazing mother.
Tim Kubart in the studio
4 days ago