How the Weekend was Perfect... Except Not

We had some pretty big plans for the weekend. One I had some shopping to do to bottle up my limoncello, we had the Wingfest to go to, we even planned on going to a play. Well I came home Friday and I wasn't feeling quite right, not bad, but definitely not good either. My wife came home feeling even worse. As it turned to night time she was up throwing up... and had it coming out the other end as well. I didn't feel that bad, that was until 3AM when my wife woke me up because of the baby. So off I go to make a bottle.

And up until this point I still feel ok. Then when I get half way up the stairs, it hits me, it hits me so hard, I cannot take another step. I call up to my wife that I'm not feeling so good. She brings a bucket, and I use it, and use it, and use it some more. I'm not a person that pukes well. I mean, I don't hurl and 5 minutes later I can party again. I think I can count on one hand the times I've been so sick, that I had to throw up.

So no shopping, no Wingfest, possibly no play... we might still make it. But it was a beautiful weekend, highs in the mid-70's, sun, I or my wife could not enjoy it, but I hear it was great. Thank God none of the kids got sick, in fact, the baby, after waking up at 3AM I gave her a pacifier just before I went down stairs to make her a bottle... she slept through it all.

Scratch that... On Monday, the songbird did get sick, and it was awful. She woke up enough to know she threw up, but but enough to do anything else. So she threw up, and rolled around in her own vomit... it was a sight and smell, to behold. She looked like Linda Blair in the Exorcist (my wife says it was even worse than that. She said we will refer to it as the measuring stick), yeah really that bad, with chunks of lasagna stuck to her... it was gross. So we got a three day weekend but never got to enjoy any of it.