Toilet thoughts

We all had the flu recently.  Now I know many people use the flu term lightly to encompass a variety of aliments from headaches and sniffles to muscle pains.  But we had THE FLU as in the old fashion puke – your – guts – out flu.  All of us, that is except my older son who has a super hero immune system that is impenetrable to most foreign invaders.  When my daughter had the chicken pox I gave her permission to cough and snot all over him, which she did so all too willingly and enjoyed it a little too much.  I guess it was pay back for all of his gross boy moments.  Yet even with her body fluid attack, he never got one single pox!  Amazing.

And as if all of us being sick wasn’t evil enough the hubs and I got to experience this joyous occasion simultaneously.  We were side by side on our bed groaning and sleeping away the misery while thinking bad thoughts about the mattress for the back pain.  I usually like to think that there is some adult presence in our home capable of maintaining order and the general well being of our kids.  However, not the case this time.  I moaned helplessly and tried unsuccessfully to move as I heard my 6yr old yell out “I’m hungry – now how do I turn on the stove to make these noodles?” and my older son, who almost burned the house down two times, offer to help him. Both adults were taken out and somehow had to manage until the Calvary (my parents) could come to the rescue.

I haven’t been this sick in a long time. I even flashed back to my childhood flus.  You know how everything was worse “back then.”  The weather, the snow, the chores, child labor, everything was more difficult and painful — including the flu.  So while I was heaving my guts out I remembered how my mom would always awaken to the sound of her puking child. Every.single.time that woman would hear us vomit.  She never missed an episode and would stand along side of us with her arm wrapped around our waist.  She seldom spoke a word during the expulsion of our innards.  But her presence somehow made it all better.  With each retch she held me firm as if to say ‘I won’t let you propel yourself into this toilet’ and that made it more bearable!   

So as I forcefully retched alone in the dark bathroom two thoughts went through my head.

  • Don’t fall in the toilet
  • I want my mom!


And maybe a third…..thank God I just cleaned the toilet!

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