With all the seasons I could get stuck with, ski season, duck season, football season, swim season, or even planting season, but no I was stuck with a late flu season. Of itself and because of Wife, flu season is usually not a trouble because of her incredible gifts of organization. When the flu hits us the cards most often fall like so:
1- One child gets the flu (nine times out of ten, it is the preschooler)
2- One or more come down with the same virus while Wife has the first on the mend.
3- One to three children are sick at a time as the flu makes its run through the house. Between sick kids healing meals, Wife some how keeps the laundry caught up.
4- The one who brought the flu home in the fist place catches it on the rebound just to monopolize Wife once more.
5- I catch the flu on the weekend and get Wife’s undivided attention.
A week of the flu season – max.
Now here’s what happened. Wednesday Wife calls to inform me that she will require help that night as she is unwell. I am amicable. As I did help create the children; I, with great vigor, will endeavor to take charge of my beloved’s responsibilities of the children through one night. She however neglected to tell me that she was not the only one ill.
I found four children complaining of “stummy aches” and the last three just plain sick. I could handle that though. Wife does it all the time. All I have to do is do what she does. So, taking a leaf out of her book, I went to lay out blankets on the floor of the living room so they could watch a movie to take their minds off their illness. So…… where does Wife keep the blankets?
I gathered the children and bunched them all together. I figured that way when a child started throwing-up I would be able to find the kid. I did not have long to wait.
I was wakened from a dead sleep by a “Mom!!! So-n-so threw-up!”
#1 left a trail of vomit from the kitchen all the way into the bathroom. That just about set the tone for the night. As soon as the carpet was cleaned and #1 was back on the couch #5 began throwing-up down his shirt and onto his pillow. That was when I almost added my own contribution to the mess.
Understand; as I am writing about vomit covered pillows, I am trying not to get queasy myself.
At one point in the night, while I was changing #6’s pajamas Wife got up to help clean the bedding, and was quickly chased back by her own stomach cramps.
I confess, I now believe Wife to be made of something equal to cast iron. Twice, I ran from a child in order to calm my own stomach. There was a huge pile of vomit caked blankets and sheets in the laundry room. And the pile of sick kids in the front room resembled a kind of blanket covered mass grave.
To put the matter in a nutshell – we had an entire flu week condensed into one night; and I was in charge. How did we survive?