Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Eamon had a tummy bug yesterday. Nothing to dire. He threw up a bit, slept a lot, and laid around the rest of the time. It wasn't until normal bed time that he felt well enough to actually eat some crackers and toast.
There's something quite extraordinary about sickness in the house. Normal routines fall by the wayside. Energy levels plummet. A weird quiet takes control. I rather enjoy these days - especially when they come infrequently.
When Eamon succumbs to a bug, he remains quite wonderful. He apologizes for throwing up, for missing the bucket and hitting the bed, for not eating lunch. He looks sad and sincere. He frets about what he might miss out on over the next two days should he not be better. He's simply glorious and I am so very grateful that I'm the one that gets to be home with him.
The best part of him being sick though is the next day as he tries to figure out why he was sick, and why he's now suddenly better. This morning's explanation had something to do with throwing up the tummy bug, sleeping to make sure it didn't get back into his tummy, and then eating and drinking water to keep it away. His explanation contained many more details and complexities, but that was the general gist. And I never did understand his explanation as to how he got the tummy bug. I'm a bit disappointed that the touching of stuff and washing of hands never figured into it, but he is only 5. I shall persist with my hand washing message though.
Except for Kerry, we've all had a turn at being sick this winter.
Here's hoping that Kerry avoids getting any bad bugs this season, that the rest of us only need one turn this season, and that this winter season comes to a sudden end - soon.