There's a stomach flu racing its way through Homer's wee people. It's not one of those tidy, 24-hour affairs, either. No, it's a days long mess that apparently leaves its victims pale and drained of all energy.
It's coming for us.
I thought we dodged it a few weeks ago when an e-mail from Toddler's preschool came out advising us that there was a reported case of Rotavirus. Toddler didn't get sick so I thought I was in the clear.
Week before last, our good friends came down with the flu. All of them. Started with their baby girl, moved on to their toddler and on to the parents. They were sick for DAYS. Then there was the text message from my friend letting us know that her son was down. He was sent into SPH for iv fluids.
Our good friends just let us know that both of their girls came down with the flu. These are the two healthiest kids I know. They're my bell-weather of illness. They're not doing so well. Not cool.
Toddler's not feeling well this afternoon, I can tell. The throw-ups haven't started but I know they will. Poor girl looks like a wee vampire, all drained of colour. She's hot and sweaty yet trying to convince us she's just fine. I put her to bed with a bucket nearby and told her to come and get me if her tummy feels funny.
Hunter thinks we're taking the boat out for its inaugural 2013 run tomorrow. I tried to explain to him that he might not want to get his hopes up too high but he was having none of it.
The guy's been getting the boat ready for weeks. He cleaned and fixed all that needed cleaning and fixing. He straightened out all the wiring, installed a new compass and tuned up the motors. He put so much work into it and he's pretty stoked about getting out. As I write, he's restringing and greasing up all of his fishing reels.
He doesn't understand what's coming. It might even be coming for him. I hope not. Bad enough having a sick toddler but a sick husband who's already suffering a raging case of spring fever? Not cool. Not cool at all.