“It just does. My tummy hurts. Because I cannot help it.”
Jonah’s sick. Nothing like the pukes to keep things hoppin’.
John nearly broke his toe. Break out the Naproxen and Vicodin. Then he flew to Chicago.
My mother (who is visiting/saving me while John’s away) tripped on a chair and…how shall I say this delicately? Strained her gluteus maximus. I, in my concern over waking the children (who were sleeping just a few feet away) am not proud to say I was initially more worried about the noise she was making in her pain than the pain itself.
Because we are exhausted, the boys are eating cheese sandwiches and potato chips for a second meal in a row. But wait, I’ve peeled an orange. And Jonah’s drunk some coconut water, because Jonah’s not eating much at all.
Earlier, this morning, after emptying his guts J pronounced: “I’m hungry. Can I have another piece of cinnamon toast?”
To which I responded, “We should probably wait awhile honey, to make sure your stomach is a little more settled.”
To which he responded, “It’s okay mom. If I puke again, I’ll eat another piece of cinnamon toast.”
Jonah sick is about the saddest thing around. Well, Gabriel sick is pretty sad too. Not that I’m saying I in any way prefer Jonah being sick, but in ways he’s easier to coexist with. He is still. He cuddles on the couch. His anxieties are superseded by how terrible he feels. He stops asking questions, which just isn’t Jonah. It’s strange and it’s sad and I hope he’s much better tomorrow.
Life’ll take you for a ride, that’s for sure. Truer words were never spoken Jonah Caedmon: It Just Does.