My five year old woke up at 3am this morning to puke. Then he did again at 5:45am. Ordinarily, I may or may not send my sick kid to school anyway, if he appears to be ok by 7am. I chose to take the “high road” today.
I chose to stay home from work to nurse my child back to health.
My child who has not thrown up once in the last 6.5 hours.
My child who has literally been bouncing up and down. On the couch. All morning.
Because he’s “sick,” I let him have the treat of watching tv. And by tv, I mean the highly controlled, commercial-free, streaming Netflix situation I downloaded into the Wii that we never use. And I only allowed this, because I had a crapload of work to do. I mean, if the kid’s in front of the tv, I can totally buckle down and get stuff done.
Except, “Mommy, I need some water…Mommy, I’m hungry…Mommy, it’s over! Can I watch another one? More Cheerios please, Mommy…Mommy, why can’t you watch The Backyardigans with me? I miiiissssss you!”
(What the hell is a Backyardigan?)
So, after sending like 1,000 work-related emails, filling out camp registration forms, and calling my plumber to beg him to “please, please, please come take care of the(se) leak(s) in my kitchen because we’re putting our house on the market February 15th and no one is gonna want to buy a house with a water-stained kitchen ceiling,” I gave up.
I cannot work from home. My son is perfect. It’s the drip drip drip sound that’s way too distracting.
Instead, my big boy and I snuggled under the covers in my bed (Hello, Stomach Flu. Let’s get me back to my goal weight, mmkay?) and finished reading Henry and the Paper Route. Then we read a chapter in Superfudge. Then we had lunch. Together. And he told me about the electric flying car he plans on inventing that needs eight plugs and that can go as fast as a rocket ship.
Heads up, M.I.T. folk. If this is what my kid invents when he’s sick, imagine how your world will be rocked when he’s well. And…er…13 years older. For now, I’ve charged him with fixing this damned leak.