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So I’ve had quite the time the last few days dealing with a very sick family. At one point yesterday, not only did I have Connor, Alia and Jean throwing up, but the dog too. I took a sick day, not because I was sick, but to deal with the ensuing madness.
If you can’t make jokes about vomit, then having to deal with an exorcist baby should never be in your future.
And the funny part of the day goes like this. Connor was sleeping, but he wakes up and starts getting all squirrley on the couch. I knew that he was going to hurl, so I quickly grabbed the paper towels and lo and behold.. blammo. Now I was feeling pretty good about myself. I’d already changed clothes 3 times so far the day, and gone through two towels. So Jean wakes up when she hears him get sick, and I start telling her my story about how proud I was that I knew Connor was going to be sick, and to look for ‘the signs’. Connor had his head resting on my chest at that point, and then immediately proceeded to BLAMMO on me. Not once, but twice.
Jean: “Pride cometh before the fall”
Me: “Yeah. Thanks. I guess I deserved that huh?”
Change of clothes #4, and then put a towel directly on my chest when he was laying there for the rest of the night.