Some days .....

TCL: "Can you pick up some ginger-ale on the way home?"
Me: "Sure. What's up?"
TCL: "Poot just blew chunks"

That's how my day ended yesterday, and my night began.
Picked up ginger-ale and PediaLyte for my sweet baboo.
Get home and he's passed out cold on the couch.
When he does wake up, he starts that pre-spewage lurch.
I get him to the kitchen sink (barely) before he blows.
When he takes a break, I hurriedly rush him into the bathroom
where he proceeds to empty the last of whatever was in his
tummy out.
I try to get him to puke in the toilet, and for the most part, he did.
But ....... life is never that nice.
He managed to get the rug, and me.
Oh joy, oh bliss.

The good news is, that was the last of his up-chucking.
The bad news is, he spiked a temp and it won't come down.
Added to his misery is the fact that we're in the middle of July.
In Florida.
The kid is downright miserable.
The temp yesterday was 99, with a heat index making it feel like 110.
The air conditioner in my house is old, and my house sits in sunshine all day,
so even being inside sucks.
Poor kid.

I'd like to say that the night time was better, but it wasn't.
He was up and down, and running back and forth between
me, Daddy and the couch.
Finally, at 4am, I tackled his tiny ass and made him lay still long enough
to fall asleep.
Normally, I'm not a fan of having him sleep in my bed, but last night?
Yeah, I didn't give a flying fuck.
I wanted sleep, and I wanted him to sleep.
Which, he did.
Fitfully.
He smacked me a couple times, and rolled over onto my hair more times
that I care to count.
Whatever.
He's much better today, but still fighting the fever.
I just pray he sleeps sound tonight.
I'm tired.
And hot.
Working inside an easy-Bake oven all day is just cruel.
Yeah, my office is a small box inside a metal warehouse.
That's a story for another day.
I'm too damn hot to write anymore.