Sicky

I was awakened last night by a little voice... "MOM! I spit up!" I came downstairs and he showed me a messy hand. I blame it on the late hour because I didn't realize at first what had happened. I washed his hand, brushed his teeth and gave him a drink. Then I went in the room. FYI, spit up=throw up.

"I know what it was, Mommy," he said. "I'm not sick, I just forgot to brush my teeth. That's all."

We woke up Daddy and got it all taken care of. When we were ready to put Sam back in bed, he said, "Sorry, mommy, for making a mess." And told Daddy "Thank you, Daddy" for making his bed. What a sweetheart he was. Poor thing.

Then he woke up this morning about 7, as usual, and I found him downstairs. When I went in his room, he'd done a little more in the bowl I gave him to use, and I said, "When did that happen?"

"Oh Mom," he said, "That was a long time ago. I feel fine now." I found out a long time ago was when he woke up.

He really was fine after that. Didn't have a huge appetite, but kept everything down and was singing and dancing with Fireman Sam this afternoon. No other collateral damages so far, so here's hoping no one else gets sick...