I knew it. I knew I should not have said the words, “We rarely have had puking events at our house,” when my friend Tisha was weathering a stomach flu at her house recently.
Aimee: (Groggily stumbling to his room) Are you OK, buddy?
Declan: I feel like I am going to throw-up.
Aimee: Uh-oh. To the bathroom!
= insert child nausea, which nearly forces adult nausea =
Declan: (much perkier) Wow! I feel so much better. Can I have some water?
Aimee: (feeling his head) OK. I don’t think you have a fever. I think you threw up because you have a sinus infection and all that phlegm was dripping down your throat and upset your tummy.
Declan: (feeling MUCH better, starts with rapid fire questions) What’s a fever? What is phlegm? Why are boogers different colors? Why does it drip down your throat? Hey look! I left my “Very Hungry Caterpillar Book” in here, can I read it? Why is it dark out still? Mama, Mama, why are you banging your head on the sink?