It’s been a rough week of playing “Catch the Stomach Bug” around here.
Here. Enjoy a few sleep-and-nutrient-deprived nuggets of nonsense.
Sunday night, I stood at the sink rinsing vomit out of Colt’s pillowcase for what would NOT be the last time this week. As I threw the sheets in the washing machine and reached for Hammer, his beloved stuffed puppy dog, my mind wandered. Maybe it was an attempt to distract myself from the all-too-distinct odor of regurgitated chicken nuggets or maybe I inadvertently stumbled upon the precise level of sleep deprivation necessary for true creative brilliance, but I found myself dreaming up a twisted children’s book idea as I carefully restored Hammer back to his original, vomit-free state.
Think Toy Story meets Garbage Pail Kids meets Animal House. The toys compete for the coveted role of “Kiddo’s Favorite” through a series of hazing-like activities, including but not limited to surviving the stomach flu and everything that comes with it. They have to endure, and come out the other side smiling.
We’ll never know how the book ends. I collapsed back into bed just in time.
After going to bed early Monday night and being SURE I’d wake up cured and healthy and ready to go — I woke up Tuesday feeling like absolute hell. As the boys left for school, Colt came over to the bed where I was wallering in my own misery and gently patted my arm. Then, in the most genuine and helpful little voice, he said the words every mom is dying to hear.
“Mommy, if you need something — just get up and get it.”
As I’ve been known to do, I let myself get carried away after Colt had been sick for several days and I’d spent my own miserable few days toggling between the couch and the bathroom. After an otherwise harmless comment by a coworker early in the week, I Googled myself to the conclusion that the walls of our house just might be filled with toxic black mold. After all, included on the (long) list of possible symptoms are “nausea” and “tiredness”. Obviously, toxic black mold was as reasonable an explanation as anything else.
Wednesday morning, as we got ready for work:
Sarah, calmly and seriously: What do you know about toxic black mold?
Jeff: *scoff/chuckle* We don’t have toxic black mold.
Sarah: But what if we do?
Jeff: We don’t have toxic black mold.
Sarah: I Googled it. You should read the list of symptoms.
Jeff: Is “irrational fear of toxic black mold” on the list of symptoms caused by toxic black mold?
Here’s to next week!