Sam and I spent the better part of Wednesday night throwing up. J is my hero, taking care of pukey baby while I hug the toilet. He even stayed home yesterday to supervise the quickly recovered Ding Dong while the not so recovered mama lay on the couch feeling green and empty. And what does J get for all his wonderful and thoughtful deeds? A nomination for sainthood? A big batch of chocolate chip cookies?! Not quite. We had been waiting for the other shoe to drop all day yesterday, and around 5 o'clock J began to get queasy. That's right, your compassion and love will be rewarded with a night of vomit and stomach cramps!
Oh, and a picture of you on the internet passed out in all your sickness while clutching your son's bear, Rufus.
Just so you know, Sam insisted that J hold Rufus for some reason, J didn't just curl up with him. I guess Sam knows the power of a good bear hug.
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