John was sick over the weekend and being the loving wife that I am, I pretty much told him to suck it up and he was fine. But, then on Monday, I got sick and I knew that death was pretty much imminent. In the middle of the night Sunday, she puked all over us. Because she seemed okay that morning, I went ahead and took her to the sitter on Monday and I went to work. I somehow trudged through the day, but got little to nothing done as my computer does not stretch into the office bathroom. Then, Tuesday morning, she puked on us again. All three of us stayed home and cried of our misfortune. Then, Wednesday morning, she puked on again in bed. We are running out of sheets at this point as neither John nor I can quite get the physical strength up to go downstairs and wash any sheets. John went to work Wednesday and I was better but the girl was much worse. She threw up all day and showed off how she knows to shake her head no every time I offered her juice, Pedialyte or water. But, around 4pm, she started to turn for the better and now she is doing much better, although she still is scared to eat or drink anything but HiC punch or potato chips.
This was Sunday before the Stomach Plague of 2008 invaded Walker Street. 
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