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When those words wake me out of a dead sleep, panic instantly races through my body. Maybe it was just a dream.  But no, because next I hear…

“…Andy’s throwing up.”

Oh yeah, people. It’s not a dream–it’s a nightmare.

“Where is he?” I asked laying foot after foot on the floor.

“In the bathroom,” Sam reported.

Jeff jumps out of bed too and I ask if he made it to the bathroom before he threw up.

“No,” Sam says and then I see Jeff coming back in to the room with his shirt pulled up over his nose. He confirms he didn’t make it to the bathroom.

It was much worse than I could have imagined in that split second. But, I guess in retrospect, it could always be even worse.

There was only one way to tackle this job (and no, I did not stop to take a selfie in the middle of the clean up; this is the next day).

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Ugh. The worst. I felt so bad for him, though. He kept saying, “I’m sorry, Mom.” I kept telling him—through the mask—that it was okay and I knew he couldn’t help it. He was running a little fever and was white as a ghost.

This was a Monday night. Just the day before, Andy’s little buddy was over. They were playing outside in the nice weather. They came in for a little break and I asked his friend how his sporting event was over the weekend.

“I didn’t do so good,” he said, “I was throwing up all day.” That ‘all day’ he was referring to was like, yesterday day–like 12 hours ago. He adds some details to the story that he threw up six times and the next thing I know, I hear Jeff from the other room say, “Okay, everybody get outside,” and he made them go back out. We both looked at each other and were like, dude, WTF, not cool.

About 20 minutes later, I discovered the kid’s shoes and asked where they were. One of mine responded by saying they were upstairs in Andy’s room playing Legos. I freaked and made them come downstairs and go outside. Andy argued with me a bit but I was insistent.

Andy came back in alone and asked why they couldn’t play inside. Besides the obvious (that we have been inside for six months and the sun was finally out), I told him that his friend said he had been sick and he shouldn’t be around other people for at least 24 hours after being sick—he was just sick like 10 hours ago. Not cool.

So not cool that a mere 30 hours later, I had a puking kid.   Thankfully, no one else in the house caught it (I am telling you, that mask is the bomb) but I want you to know I kept my kid home from school for two days until he was fever free for at least 24 hours. Come on, people. No one likes sick kids. Play along and keep your kids home and away from others until they are no longer contagious. Even if they are bugging the crap out of you and want to go play with friends…just say no!


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