The next time my neighbors warn me that their kids have the stomach flu, I should heed their warning and stay the hell away, immediately. The kids and I walked out of the house for our daily walk around the hood today, and we ran into a new neighbor with his 17 month old sickly little bugger right in front of our house. “You might want to stay back, he has a 101 temperature right now,” he warned me as Mr Pant’s went running up to him. “Yeah yeah, I’m not worried about it, we’re outside right?”
Then fifteen minutes later, down the street as we were exploring the hood we ran into one of our usual families that we play with. They were out for their daily walk too. She warned me, “You might want to stay back, she’s been puking for two days, although her temperature just went away,” she warned me about her youngest kid. “Yeah yeah, I’m not worried about it, we’re outside right? Can we join you on your walk?” “Sure, let’s go.” And all six of us walked the neighborhood for the next hour. Outside right? Yeah right!
Four hours later, just after Mr Pants laid down for a late bedtime, he hurled. Rice, an entire banana and a bottle of OJ and a couple pieces of chicken…..all over his sheets. But then, oh but then he hurled on Lilly. All over her nice work pants. Can’t say I didn’t feel bad, but I can’t really say I did either. Considering that he puked on me in the middle of a restaurant a year ago, she had it coming.
And he puked on his stuffed Woody, Sid, and Buck all in the same shot. Now how the hell am I suppose to put the kid to sleep without his friends. Huh, tell me!
