Friday, July 20, 2007

On vomit, bats and getting the **** out of here.

So, when you get 23 children together, there's bound to be sharing. And usually more of the kind of sharing that we don't want than the kind of sharing that we do want. So the vomiting made it to our house, fortunately for me, it hit one of my sister's kids, not mine. And she's an expert (I wonder if you can put that on a resume: Vomit Bug Control Coordinator and Chief Bleacher). But now, every time I look at my children, I see a time bomb, waiting to explode. I watch everything they eat, making sure that I can handle seeing it again. Thanks, but no bacon for you kids today. And, I think we'll skip the Kool-Aid.

We were innocently sitting around yesterday when a bat appeared in the house. Flew around a bit, my Dad tried to shoo it out of the house, I freaked out a little, lost sight of it and we assumed it left. But you know what happend when you assume, right?

Later, in the middle of the night, I heard a scream from downstairs. And another. And I was sure that someone else was throwing up. Before I could even react, my sister flew into my room, shut the door and got busy panicking. The bat had returned, and had woken up, seeing as it was like three in the morning, and it didn't bank on anyone being up cleaning up vomit. Her husband came to the rescue, actually shoo-ed the bat out of the house, with lots of door slamming and a little instruction for the bat, like "get out of here!" And so he was gone.

But we were all a little freaked out, to say the least. My daughter came to sleep with me and the littlest one in the bed of death. And between the bed teetering on falling over, and me sure that every gurgle in their stomach made me sure that I was going to get vomit in my hair, and the queasy feeling in my stomach, it was a great night's sleep.

So, now we're packing to go home a day early. Because I just couldn't possibly have more fun. Ever.

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