The incident about which I'm blogging happened mere minutes ago. The Boy is happilyish laying on the love seat, possibly to fall asleep soon.
Yesterday Big Brother complained most of the day about a headache. He ate very little throughout the day, and even when the tv wasn't on, he lay around near it, not venturing from the sofa for the majority of the day.
He obviously didn't feel well. Other than the headache and an audible stuffiness, he didn't really have any complaints. He didn't say that he felt stuffy, even when asked, but we could hear his nose being a little noncompliant.
Today, Big Brother is back to normal. He still sounds stuffy in the nose, but he claims to have no headache or any other symptoms/problems. However, The Boy has taken over the lazing about. He actually fell asleep in the floor earlier today. He's been just laying in the floor most of the day. I've questioned him several times, asking him about different parts that might hurt or feel bad.
Minutes ago, I lay down next to him in the floor. Yes, he said that he felt fine. No, nothing hurt. I was making a sort of gasping sound with his mouth that I didn't relate to what came next. While assuring me that he was fine, I could tell that something was coming. It wasn't the breathing problems that were my concern at the moment.
I backed up just in time. There's a certain something as a parent when you see the flume of your child's stomach evacuating itself toward you. And this time it was a nice bright red, just about to turn the corner toward a dark pink. I got him quickly to the bathroom then began the vomit removal. Thankfully, there's still a nice pink spot in the carpet. I might worry otherwise that we'd forget where it was. Pity.
I'm not sure what we've got here at the house with those boys. I'm half expecting to wake up tomorrow only to realize that I'm learning how they felt. That's one way to develop empathy for a sick kid, get it yourself. I suppose we'll see.