Last night at dinner, the Bean didn’t eat her bread.  This alarmed me greatly as this child would live on bread and butter if you let her.  Then she turned down her Valentine’s Day cupcake.  I knew right then and there she was sick.  When she asked to go to bed and wanted me to put her down instead of the Hubs, I figured the world was ending.

I kept the baby monitor right by me all evening and night waiting for the blow I knew was coming.  But all I heard was silence. So I got up and out of the house by 5:15 to head to the gym and didn’t give the Bean’s health a second thought.

When I got home, the Hubs was rinsing out the bath tub- the Bean had gotten sick.  I asked where she was and he told me she was laying in my bed.  I have to admit- I had conflicting thoughts about this.  My first thought was naturally hoping she feels better. But my second was fervently praying she didn’t get sick in my bed or worse yet on me.

After draping myself with a towel or four, I climbed into my bed with the Beaner for some cuddling. I noticed there was a towel already laid down under her and I mentally gave the Hubs props for thinking ahead.  While Beaner clearly didn’t feel well, it seems like getting sick was a one and done deal so I slowly peeled off my layers of protective towels as the morning went on (the puke bucket, however, stayed within arms reach all day long).

The Hubs called to check in shortly after I put Beaner down for her nap. After I gave him the status update, I thanked him for putting the towel down on our bed just in case.

The Hubs: “Just in case what?”

Me: “Just in case the Bean got sick in our bed after you cleaned her up.”

The Hubs: “Heather- how do you think I knew she was sick? She threw up in our bed.”

Me: “Let me get this straight. She puked, you cleaned her up, changed her- then you put a towel over the mess on our bed and laid her back down in it?!”

The Hubs: “It was only a little bit of puke- what’s the big deal?”

*sigh*

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Thankfully the Bean is feeling better as of this evening. Not nearly as clingy- which is a blessing for us all. Scorch, on the other hand, left the house for an hour this evening looking completely normal and came back home with a raging case of pink eye.  So I’ve traded in the fun of wrestling my daughter to get medicine in her last week to wrestling my son to get eye drops in him.   The fun never stops ’round these parts!