Bad Parents

So we are bad parents who leave our child with a babysitter when he is sick. Even worse, throwing up! Actually, she told us to go, and we waited until he seemed unlikely to continue hurling, and we were just going over to my parents to go in their hot tub while they were at a Super Bowl party (after going to a local Indian restaurant because we figured it was faster/easier than getting take-out and having to clean it up at my parents house). This is actually the second time this has happened in recent weeks. Babysitter Extraordinaire was unfortunately here the last time too. It was weird.

We were all three adults sitting in the living room when M said noticed Sam acting weird in the bathroom at the end of the hall. Not having a view of the bathroom from my seat, and not grasping the nastiness about to unfold, I instead focused on my husbands unclear comment. Weird how? What EXACTLY is he doing? Apparently hurling on the bathroom floor. For no reason that we could determine. It was over almost as fast as it happened, and then we focused on clean-up and comforting the child. Who was, understandably, upset. Whiney, crying and laying on his bed. Clammy, but not warm really. Then he was laying with me on the chair-and-a-half int he living room for a while and then while we debated what to do (Babysitter Extraordinaire was already here, playing in the basement with The Little Person to get him out of our hair after THE INCIDENT. She had offered to help M with clean-up because she knows I do throw-up, and was already pouring water for him when I went to grab a cup. She told us it was okay to leave her even if the kid had thrown up. And he looked fine really. Still, I was ready to bag it all and get take-out here when M made the executive decision that it was fine, we were going and we would only be at my parents' house (who live a few blocks away). So we did. I did. And it was fine.

The only blip was that my stomach seems to be angry at me and while I wasn't kissing the porcelain god, I wasn't one hundred percent. But I rallied anyway, choosing a mild dish instead of my old standby, and even tried a glass of wine which I couldn't finish (slightly unusual). The hot tub was great, even if I only lasted a few minutes. With the fans on high. Then we went to our separate corners, me to the leather couch with the reclining seats to sift through my mom's pile of magazines, newspapers and books, and M to check the score on the game. Which I don't think he cared a ton about overall, but once he was watching (just like me with the reading), he got into it. Then I noticed it was almost 9PM, so we went home to relieve B.E. (Babysitter Extraordinaire) and watch Big Love! Edited to add, no additional puking. Just to let you know.