...sticks together. Or at least cleans up the aftermath together. Some nasty stomach flu has taken hold of our home. Ugh. I wasn't feeling great on Saturday during the day, but the boys were fine and they went up to NHIS. They got back around 8PM and J crashed hard in bed. Around 11PM he got up and walked down the hall in tears, crying, "I don't feel so good." Steve's first instinct was to pick him up to cuddle him. Yeah, that's a good way to get covered in vomit. Not only did J hose down Steve, but the wall, the floor, the jackets and our karate gis on the railing, down the cellar stairs, the carpet. What occurred in a matter of a few seconds took an hour and a half to clean up. By the next morning we were all even more miserable. Steve stayed home yesterday, but did go to work today. Suffice to say, J & I are feeling like wrung out dishrags today. The thought of getting in the shower is exhausting me, never mind the actual action of that. Oy vey!
Happy 4th of July folks!