We are cursed

I am convinced that we are cursed. Seems like every other month someone in this house gets the stomach "bug". "Bug" seems a little cute for what I've had to witness this past year though. Once again the victim is Trevor. He said his stomach hurt on Sunday and then later he announced to everyone that he had the "bad poopies" (yet another "cute" desciption of something that is most certainly not). Why is it that when kids throw up (hope you are not eating right now) that they have to do it at 1:00am? It's bad enough I have to help clean it up, but why does it have to be in the middle of the night?

I'll give Trevor credit though, the next time he threw up it was early afternoon. Gawd bless the kid...I was in the bedroom and he came staggering in with the giant blue tupperware bowl I had given him earlier "just in case" and he murmered rather calmly "hold this dad" (handing me the bowl) and he promptly barfed into it. This lead to a rather comical tango as he and I danced into the bathroom so he could finish up in the toilet - as the contents of the bowl were beginning to exceed capacity (getting queasy yet?).

Clorox is my friend. My hands are pink and chapped from my constant hand washing. What's killing me now is that it seems like as soon as get about two bites into anything I've prepared to eat Trevor will go trotting by me and I know it's only a matter of seconds before I hear his now familiar request of "Dad - will you come wipe my butt!" (see my very first post). Let me tell ya, that tuna sandwhich with the two bites taken out of it sure looks tasty after that. Mmmm Mmmm yummy yum yum.

I just want to bathe in bleach...