It's begining to look a lot like...bleah
The annual holiday hurl is upon us. I awoke last night to sound of one of the kidlets yaking. It was the Girl. I gave her my sympathy and sent her back to bed. Periodically, I'd hear her bowing to the porcelain, send her my telepathic sympathy, and go back to sleep. I know, I'm a rotten mom. But, honestly, the Girl is the precision puker in the family. I knew that there would be no mess to clean up.
This morning when I came down the stairs to the family room, all four kidlets looked like death. They had all been up during the night! I had a few spots to scrub on the carpet. My children really are considerate. They didn't want to wake me to let me know that I might want to clean the carpet before it soaked in. The little red buckets have been handed out for the times they can't make it to the vomitorium, and the rule is that the bucket must be with you at all times.
Every year (with the exception of two), the kidlets have had the flu at Christmastime. This is another reason Christmas makes me cranky.