As much as I would have liked to tell you that the illness that's been worming it's way through our house for the last three weeks has packed it's bags, slung them over it's shoulder and is hitch hiking somewhere down I 91 right now, that's unfortunately not the case.
Instead, it found a nice cozy place in the corner of the house where it went into incubation and metamorphosed into some kind of serial killer super bug. More specifically, a vomit inducing, diarrhea super bug.
So...needless to say, my oldest is home from school again today. She spent most of last night vomiting. She crept into my room at three in the morning and stood over me.
"I just vomited all over the bathroom", she said. It jolted me out of deep sleep and I quickly caught a whiff of the stench, the smell still hung thick in the air.
For some reason, she's the only one of the kids who has been sick this year. Over breakfast, the other two contemplated why this is.
"Maybe it's cause she didn't wash her hands last Tuesday when mom told us to and she didn't do it. I KNEW she was gonna pay for that!"
"Noooo, I bet it's because she kissed the dog on the mouth!"
They could be right about that last one. She's asleep now, tucked comfortably into my bed which now that I think about it is probably now serving as a giant petri dish.
I hate that she's sick but there is a part of me that so enjoys snuggling up with her to read a book in the complete stillness of the afternoon.