Sick Day

"Dad! I dont feel good!" yells Gio at 3 in the morning startling us out of bed.

"Get the bucket!" I command.

It was already in the bedroom thankfully.

Soundtrack playing loudly in the foreground: Violent, vomitous wretching sounds.

Unfortunately, the bucket got to the bed a pile of barf late. Thank goodness for washing machines. And yes I scooped the vomit off the sheets before sticking them in the washer.

Ew!!!!!!!

The vomit went on intermittently for the next four hours, but now seems to be taking a break. Phew.

Poor Gio.