First, it started out with “Dad, Jeb is sick.” I thought to myself on Tuesday morning, hey it’s only spit up. Nope. Vomit. The whole crib. And he was dancing in it. By later on, he was dry heaving and shivering and tugging an ear. Trip to the peds ruled all out but a virus. Yep, I made that rascal go.

The next day, almost 24 hours later, BOOM! It hit me. I’m home with a 10- month old and 2 yr old. Jesus in Heaven help! One screaming causes he’s hungry, as pedialyte and saltines ain’t cutting it, and Katie just dancing around like a fool. I got my oldest from carpool, then had to pull over on the way to get the wife. Not cool! I’m sure my tweener was praying, “God if you can hear me, don’t let any of my friends see my dad puking!” I was a block from her school, on the side of the road, bent over.

Thursday evening, I’d just come back with jello and ginger ale, the misses and I are feeding Jeb jello in the kitchen when I heard the next domino fall. Katie projectile vomits in the den. The dog runs upstairs, no doubt scared shitless. I cannot make this up. I can’t.

Katie, poor thing, we had to change her clothes three times. Little ones, as I remember with Abby, just think it’s drool so they make no effort to get to a trash can or toilet. It just runs out their mouth. Abby tells us that she puked. Having seen no evidence as with the three prior victims, I don’t know what to believe. Then she comes down here all happy. Not dragging. Yea, perhaps a sympathy gag, not puke.

So, Phyllis was laying with Katie and I with Jeb last night. 4:20 this morning, lo and behold, Jeb’s up, hungrier than hell. Ok, bottle for him. He chugged it and went back to sleep. I was too awake then. So, truly, Abby and Phyllis are all that’s left. Hmmm….where to place my money…