My witty husband posted on Facebook yesterday that it wasn't really Super Bowl Sunday here; it was more like Super Toilet Bowl Sunday.
That's because William, bless his heart, had the stomach flu. I guess it's a good thing we hadn't planned to invite any friends over to watch the game.
We should have known something was up when he turned down pizza at lunch. He asked for peach yogurt and then only ate a few bites. Seriously, that's like alarm bells going off, and neither David nor I picked up on it. I guess we're out of the habit.
There was a time, though, when I would have noticed right away. When he was about Andrew's age, there was this one day that William was starting to get sick. I called David at work in a panic. David knows that I rarely ever call him at work, so he almost always takes my calls. Cautiously he asked me what was wrong.
"William's sick!" I bellowed.
Calmly, David reassured me that he might be sick but he'd probably be fine. He sounded relieved that nothing appeared to be emergently wrong.
"No, you don't understand!" I shouted. "He won't EAT CHEESE!"
"Bring him RIGHT IN!" was David's panicked response.
But there we were yesterday, not even thinking anything about William handing off that slice of Cowboy Pizza to David. William turning down pizza. Yeah. That was so obvious that I am smacking myself in the head for not realizing it right away.
William's Sunday School teacher and my friend Kate emailed me today to let me know that he had briefly mentioned feeling sick during Sunday School yesterday morning. But nothing came of it at the time, and he'd already probably exposed everyone in the vicinity to whatever bug he was carrying.
I Lysol-ed the hell out of everything in the house, not including David and Andrew. I cleaned the fixtures in the bathroom and the toilet seat every time William went near them (which was often). When he wasn't actively being sick, William lay on the couch, still and wan. It would have broken your heart to see him. He usually idles at such a high speed, and he was so sick, it was like someone had flipped a switch and turned him off.
Anyway, William bounced back just fine. He about drove me nuts today. No, I told him, you can't have yogurt-covered raisins. Yes, you can watch "The Empire Strikes Back." No, you can't have yogurt. Yes, I will read the volcano book to you. And will you please stop hugging and kissing on your little brother?
Andrew, knock on wood, seems to be doing just fine. Did I mention that he has two teeth now and adores Ritz Crackers? William is now calling him Ritz Cracker. Yes, that's a compliment; William adores Ritz Crackers. And he ate about 100 today.