March 4, 2011

Puke-a-Palooza III (God Save Us!)

On this episode of the House of the Sick and Afflicted....The terror of Puke-a-Palooza Part Uno and Dos were shamefully minute compared to the hell that was Wednesday evening's Puke-a-Palooza Part III (God Save Us)...which stretched into the wee hours of Thursday morning.

9:30pm, Wednesday night
The Expert is quiet.  Unusually quiet.  I ask him what's shaking.  He says he doesn't feel very well.  I run to the store for the Pepto-Immodium essentials, just in case.  While I am gone, he starts upchucking.

I blame him and his crazy cooking for poisoning himself.  This time it was the smoked pork ribs from Monday.  That damn meat, I say.

He agrees.

The Expert returns to the bathroom.  Cursed meat.

I am getting ready for bed, washing my face, and I hear familiar distance screams of horror.  From upstairs.  The boy child.  Oh no.  Seriously cursed meat.

James has painted the entire room.  It's bad.

We put James in the tub and clean up the mess.  The Expert is sitting on the floor near the tub also looking pale.

James throws up again.  In the tub.  He cries.   The Expert is a shade of green at seeing James.  I tell him to go downstairs.

12:00am, Thursday morning
I rock James, but he won't get back in his bed because he thinks the bed made him sick.

"I no like my bed!" he says.

James is in bed with us.  He throws up two more times.  It's pitiful.  The Expert is holding it together, despite the surrounding mayhem.

Then, James settles down to sleep in between us. Things get quiet.

Just as I doze off, I am bolted awake...sweating.  Dear God.

And I am the worse thrower-upper in the world.  First, because I rarely do it. And I avoid it all costs.
I tell the Expert to get me the trashcan. And then I start.

I lean over the bed and make an offering to the gods of sickness.  James is sleeping soundly beside me, and the Expert is huddled in the other bathroom.

James's turn again.

My turn next. This time, I am laying on the floor in the bathroom, with a pillow the Expert tossed at me, because if I move, I might die.

The Expert, bless his soul... I will stay married to him forever.  He cleaned out my trashcan.  Took it "out back" and hosed it out.  Even in his state.

At some point, all three of us are sleeping.  There has been no peep from Stella upstairs, thank God.  At some point, one of us went up and checked on her.  But I can't remember who. Maybe we sent James...

Up and at 'em.... Time to get ready for Court.  The room is spinning as I repeat to myself: I love the law, I love the law, I love the law.....

But in all seriousness, Puke-a-Palooza Part III was the most ridiculous scenario ever.  Our nanny and her daughter also participated in the fun from their house around the same time that night.

The only one who went unscathed was Stella girl.  Turns out, the Expert's cooking wasn't to blame.  Stella was probably the carrier.  Little stinker.

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