Alas, I had things to say this week… and then my child barfed at school.
I got the call to pick her up, and there she sat, at the end of a line of students sitting in chairs along the wall of the school’s front office, each with a garbage can in front of them in case of barfing. She looked so tiny, and sat crying in her brand new winter coat with barf splattered down the front.
And, as I did not discover until after I had taken her home (nor, probably, did anyone at school notice) that the back of her pants under the coat were wet where she had suffered a bout of diarrhea, probably at the same time that she vomited on the kindergarten playground during recess.
As it turns out, TWENTY-SIX KIDS in that one day had vomited at school. And that brought the total to somewhere around 45 who were off sick with a stomach bug that day. Who knows how many will be off today. The teachers are having an epic long week, I am sure. Definitely the principal is, who was just coming in from cleaning up the vomited-upon playground when I was there to pick up Stinkerbelle.
You could not pay me enough to do that. Seriously. It’s one thing to clean up after your own kid, but others’ kids? No way. He’s an awesome principal. And not just because he was on barf patrol.
And so now, we are at home, resting. Stinkerbelle does not want to eat, nibbling occasionally on a soda cracker, and sipping flat ginger ale. Mostly she is laying the sofa watching movies, her trusty cat at her side. She’s tired and her tummy hurts and she’s sad because she is missing school, and today was to be the day she got to bring Nutty home to stay (Nutty is the class mascot. He’s a squirrel. He is a Very Big Deal.)
Nemo and Rapunzel and Minions are all well and good, but they are NOT Nutty.
Myself, I feel rumblings in the pit of my stomach, and am awaiting my turn. If it is to come, I don’t know. Mostly the rumblings are of the “PLAIN TOAST? YOU CALL THAT BREAKFAST??” variety, so I think so far I am fine. We’ll see what develops. At any rate, it has thrown a bit of a wrench in the week.
However, the light at the end of the barfy tunnel is that there’s nothing that says Blanket Fort Weekend like a case of the stomach bug. I’m already planning movies and TV to watch. I’ve got knitting to do.
And, probably, laundry. Here’s hoping that is kept to a reasonable minimum, given the circumstances.