By Saturday morning Baby Sister had thankfully recovered from her mysterious vomiting illness, and we were able to go out and have ourselves some family fun, courtesy of The Daddy’s office. 

But for me the fun only lasted until 1am, when The Wictor woke me up from a very brief nap to signal that he had been sick all over his bed. Was not a sight for tired eyes. Was not pretty, especially since it was obviously his second vomiting episode of the night and it seemed he had slept in the first.  A few keywords: caked, hair, pasta, grapes. I hope that is not TMI. I will leave the rest to your imagination. 

So Sunday was an At Home Day, which meant The Wictor clinging to me like a baby monkey while his big brother and sister went stir-crazy. 

By 6pm, when The Daddy put a plate of the most delicious beef stew I have ever tasted in front of me (I would give you the recipe but he is a throw it in the pot at random kind of a cook) all I could think was that it looked really soft and could I lay my head in it? I may even have voiced this thought and it may have been The Daddy who convinced me not to do it, but I don’t quite remember. I was too tired. 

So I was happy to see that The Wictor appeared to be more or less himself this morning. I felt slightly more awake too. The morning progressed, as mornings do. And then the call came from the school. Could I please come and fetch the T-Bot…