Z is sick. He woke us this morning to say his tummy hurt. I dismissed it, and told him to go back to bed. It was 630 in the morning. I'm not the most empathetic at that time of day.
Thirty minutes later, he returned with puke in his hair.
Poor kid. He has been sleeping/puking/sleeping all day. Except when he is crying, and saying:
"Mommy, my tummy hurts!" or "Can you get that stomachache out of my tummy?" or "I don't wanna keep pukin' and pukin'!"
And he keeps trying to walk a wee ways, and then drops down suddenly on the floor and curls into a little ball, crying.
I will be blogging to say that I am sick next, I am sure. Either because I am puking or because I have a massive headache from the amount of disinfectant I am spraying.
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