Never a good sign

You know it's going to be a long day when your child comes in the room at 3 am and says "I feel like I'm going to throw up." (Bright side...at least she's a big kid, and hadn't just puked all in her bed, carpet, etc.) Proceed to throw up, she did...again and again. And then it got worse, but I'll spare you the details.

I hated to go to work. My mommy senses were so sad to leave her, but I knew she'd be in good hands with Patrick. He's an excellent and sensitive care-giver. I told him to be a good mama, and went off to work. I called to check on her at 10 am, and she was sleeping. He called me at 11 am and said "guess who's throwing up?" I said "Shannon?" and he said "No. I am." Oh geez.

At this point I considered going home with one of my co-workers for the weekend. When school was over, I ran to Kroger and bought all the good sickie foods...ginger ale, jello, applesauce, bananas, bread (because we were running low), and gatorade. I didn't buy saltines because we already had lots. I bought myself a bag of Doritos, because I know at some point during all of this I am going to want a fun food, lol.

I got home to two pitiful people...fevers over 101 and still sick as dogs. For now (10 pm) the barfing has stopped...but they both are still feverish and feeling yucky.

I am sympathetic and taking good care of them...but please God, oh please don't let me get it!