I probably jinxed myself-- and I knew it right as I was doing it.
Never get cocky when you're the only one in the family who isn't sick. It's coming for you sooner or later, believe me.
I had just finished tucking sick Niall snug into his crib, when I moved on to sick Matt. He was really in bad shape. I tried to make him eat toast, soup, crackers, anything. But he couldn't even stomach to look at any of it.
As I gave him one of his anti-nausea pills, I tried to hide my "God, it's great not to be sick" smile and told him that I hoped he felt better.
Naturally, I would be sleeping in the guest room downstairs to preserve the last bit of thriving immunity in this house. After all, how would I take care of these boys if I got sick, too?
Not more than one hour later, I felt it like an ocean wave smashing me in the face. Noooo!!! [sprint to the bathroom]
The sight of the three of us was just pathetic. Thank God for our 2 bathrooms. And also for Niall starting to get better. Now it was just Matt and I projectile vomiting all over the place.
And THANK GOD for my mother in law, who came to my rescue at 8am the next morning and took Niall off our hands for a full 24 hours.
I can't even imagine what I would have done if I had to actually feed him or play with him or pay him any attention that day. It just wasn't even possible for either Matt or myself to muster up the strength.
So, 72 hours later, things seem to be back to normal. More pleasant updates to come tomorrow. Happy Monday!
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