Volcanic Explosions and Mud Slides

By popular demand, Mike is writing this blog entry. Since last Thursday, everyone in this house, with the exception of the dog (though he needs surgery on his left knee - who knew dogs had knees?), has suffered with some sort of super bug. We're all immunized against the flu. Or so we thought. It all started innocently enough - with Hannah covered in her stomach contents on Friday morning. Probably a reaction from her shots at the doc on Thursday, so no worries. Nothing bad happened Friday, in fact, Abby had a great day at gymnastics. I came home to her still dressed in her gym-tard and running around wildly. Everyone else seems fine. What's a little puke among family members?

Then, Saturday came. Pam wakes up and feels like someone's run her over with a truck. Of course, I think she's faking and merely trying to get me to take over and teach the kids some life lessons. No problem. After that, she announces she feels so bad she needs a nap. My vison blurred, and I got woozy - she's leaving me alone with the kids and sleeping. Something is wrong; very wrong. She proceeds to sleep a little and puke a lot. But after a couple of hours, she announces she feels better. The other two kiddies are fine and me too. We're in the clear.

Not so fast. I proceed to see Griffy, sitting on his mother's lap, burp and then chew. He does it again. That's strange. Then it hits me. I get up and run for the kitch and retreive the biggest plastic bucket we own from the kitchen. I return to the couch and tell Pam to put it under his mouth. She looks at me and says "what's this for"? I announce that he's going to puke. Right on schedule, he proceeds to to fill up. Twice. Within 10 minutes Abby stands up, gets a funny look on her face, and does the best impression I've ever seen of the girl under the tent from the Sixth Sense, and proceeds to cover herself in puke. Over the next few hours, she repeats this feat 8-10 times, but each time, proving her aim is true, fills the bucket to which she's been assigned. With one exception. She was sitting on the couch, after eating some strawberries her MOTHER gave her because she felt better, and sprayed Kona's right side, from ear to hind leg, with a nice pink spray. I shooed him outside, where he rolled around in the snow to clean himself up. (Don't worry, I shampooed him in the mud room to get the rest out.) We don't have a photo of that one, but should have. Someone didn't have the new camera handy for some reason - it comes with a neck strap after all! Abby continues with the dry heaves, which last through the night followed by screams of "I WANT THIS TO STOP RIGHT NOW, STOMACH!!"

I'll save you the rest of the details, including the final, other-end flushes Griff had this evening. (It does appear he ate some or all of the jolly green giant). Everyone feels about 80% as of this evening. Solids are staying down. Thanks to Grandma Newman for the tips about what should go in so nothing would come out. Back to the normal postings with the usual author and family-friendly photos next time out.