Until this:
L fell asleep on the couch, and L never falls asleep on the couch.
She went to bed pale, but seemed fine this morning. So we optimistically Monday-morning-ed our Monday morning and I had all three in the car, about 15 yards from the driveway into the building complex, when L inverted her intestines across the car's interior. Two kids went into daycare; L and I took a very stinky drive home.
And then I remembered what we had thought of, at that time, was just an amusing comment: on Friday evening, from the high vantage point of the lovely husband's arms, G threw up across about three feet of the kitchen floor and L drily pointed out, Mama, G drooled.
Three of us have been felled. The lovely husband has a trip to Atlanta tomorrow and he never cancels work trips for health reasons so he's a non-factor. That leaves E. Naturally, by bedtime tonight she was pale and unnervingly quiet.
Did you read the title of this post and think that there's a letter missing?
If I'm home tomorrow, nursing a sick, pukey E, it'll be your fault.
