Singing about diarrhea – that’s funny. Having it – not so much fun. Cleaning up someone else’s diarrhea, well that’s neither funny nor fun. And when undigested food is squirting out both ends of your three year old who hasn’t had enough viral experience to know to do this in the bathroom, well let me tell you that it has an appeal factor of about –50. Of course that is just a rough guesstimate. The actual appeal factor probably rates much lower than that. I am tired. I am tired of doing laundry (you would be surprised at how much soiled laundry one little kid can generate). My hands are raw from in-between contact scrubs.
My husband will not be back for another week.
I have an undiagnosed case of emetophobia (aka puke-a-phobia). I am thinking that this is God’s funny way of desensitizing me to vomit. God is right; puke that is water is not half as scary as chunky puke.
Sickness, please do go quickly into that good night…
Oh, and by the way…fellow bloggers (all three of you), I have read some fantabulous posts over the past week that I’ve been itching to respond to, but just know that I probably won’t get around to commenting on all of those posts until next week.
1 week ago
1 comment:
I am so glad my kids are big enough to get sick neatly. I hope things... pass?
(Hey, at least your kid didn't take it in the face with a shovel! Poor Joe over there...)
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