Thinking On My Toes

So my Tukey was sick yesterday--he kept complaining that he didn't feel well and I just thought he was looking for attention until yesterday evening when the kids were outside, Diva comes running in:

Diva: "Luke just threw up in the yard!"

I run out there, and yes, Tukey is puking in the yard, and then the stud finishes, gets his little almost-four-year-old body back up on the skateboard and continues to play.

He's fine, I think. Just a little upset tummy.

Eleven p.m.: I'm on the computer. Hubby is jamming to my iPod tunes in the office. I hear Tukey crying in his bed. The minute I open his door, I smell it. Vomit. Yes, he puked all over his bed in his sleep and it's all over his hair and his pillow (which is now in the garbage can) and his bedsheets and comforter.

So, Hubby and I clean it up and I suggest Tukey sleeps in our bed and Hubby goes into the guest room in case Tuke needs me in the middle of the night (and also to avoid S-E-X, because I'm just not in the mood).

I had the best night sleep!

Then today, it's family day, hubby takes off work, and we're thinking of something fun to do with the family. Tuke is still crabby so we decide just to do a quick Target run and then go to the grocery store. Of course, the kids had to get blue slushies at Target, and of course, Tuke starts feeling ill at Dominick's and says "I have to frow up, I have to frow up!" And he starts running around looking for a place to puke.

I grab the plastic produce bag and put it in front of his face. Worked like a charm. It feels good to be a mom who can think on her toes! And I know the guy working in produce was happy about it too!