Today was the kiddo's first sick day. We almost made it the whole year without one, until today. I could tell that she didn't feel well, but she insisted that she wanted to go to school. She didn't want to eat her breakfast, which was a red flag, and I expected to get a phone call later telling me to come get her. But we started out and I swear we were exactly at the halfway point when she was sick to her stomach. One time. Two times. Three times. Four times. Kind of a fifth time, but by then there wasn't anything left.
We made it home and I made sure she didn't have a fever. Then, I got her comfortable on the couch in the sun room, since the floor is tile and the upholstery on the couch is suitable for patio furniture--I figured that it would be easier to clean, just in case. With her fuzzy blanket and Hello Kitty toy to keep her company, she settled down and drifted off to sleep...only to wake up and make one hurried trip to the bathroom. After that, she was wide awake, feeling yucky, back on the couch and needing Mommy.
Believe me, I was sympathetic to her plight. I hate puking. So, I sat with the kiddo and patted her back and kissed her forehead, and tried to avoid any transmission of the virus that had set up shop in her intestines. My official rationale is that I can't afford to get sick, but my honest to goodness underlying fear is that I will get the bleeping virus and puke. The last time I had a stomach virus was two years ago, and after a morning of confinement to the bathroom, I felt like crap the entire day. The kiddo had one incident later that day, then was bouncing off the walls as usual.
Really, I can't afford to get sick! (I don't wanna puke!)