I think the most golden moment of parenting will be when my kids can get up in the night, throw up neatly in the toilet, and then come wake me up to tell me about it.
As it is, I am grateful for the following:
The sanitize cycle on my washer
My Little Green carpet cleaner
My newly purchased Shark Mop
Also the fact that Michael decided to climb in on David's side of the bed and not mine. Sorry, David. Love you!
But, the good thing about a four-year-old smacked with a case of stomachus horribilis is that at least he can actually tell you when he doesn't feel well. Matthew, on other hand... it turns out he doesn't actually chew his food. But at least he has had the decency to share this bit of information (several times, to make sure we got the message) over the kitchen floor and not in my bedroom.
My shirt smells uncomfortably reminiscent of the floor I was just mopping. I'm not sure if it's psychological or if I should have held Matthew with a ten foot pole while his stomach finished its rebellion. Either way, I think it's time for another load of laundry.
And I think I'll gargle some lysol, just to be safe.