Three and a half hours of gastric tumult.

Giving up the blog would also deny me an outlet to mention that it's 1:00 AM and that since 9:00 PM my wife and my daughter have both been throwing up in a series of relentless spasmodic gut-flushing heaves. What my wife lacks in frequency (my daughter has been clocking in with incidents every quarter hour to twenty minutes) she more than makes up for in utter misery, in part because she has not realized (as her daughter has) that all this throwing up means tomorrow is a day we get to stay home and watch Barbie videos. And in part, I guess, because she is sick as a dog.

To add some moderate complication to this miasma of misery settling down around our household, every 60 to 75 minutes or so the two of them synchronize their vomiting  and I'm poised between the two bedrooms like the fabled donkey between two bales of hay, uncertain which head to lave with the damp washcloth I've got clutched in my palsied hand.

I had best grab a nap before the next round. More updates once the expected meteorite strikes our house or I succumb to the chestnut blight or something.

Comments

[Robin M.]

At least my family has had the good sense to take turns. So far. My heart goes out to you.

Sending you a virtual extra dampwashcloth,
Robin

[Wayne]

I haven't commented on your blog before but have visited it fairly regularly.

If you really are quitting I am bummed that you will be.

[meg]

Maybe while you're busy mopping fevered brows is not the best time to delurk and say that for several months, whenever I had a bad day, I re-read the entry about your daughter discovering the word "funky," because it made me laugh out loud. But I delurk and say, Thanks! anyway.