Parental Sickos

Ryan stayed home from work yesterday with a stomach flu. He rested and drank lots of gatorade - our family protocol for tummy problems and dehydration. By the time I got home from work with Dylan, he was feeling better and was able to help with Dylan's evening routine as I started some chicken soup for my sick man.
Within about an hour, I was hanging over the toilet myself. For about FOUR HOURS. Not fun stuff, expecially with the guilt that Ryan wasn't fully recovered yet and Dylan was his little post-daycare-day-self, fussy and demanding for attention.
Today I'm home in bed from work, trying to keep at least a little liquid down. Fun times.

And for a little humor: Yesterday morning whilst we were both trying to get Dylan ready for daycare, I explained gently to Dylan that he needs to be extra helpful today because Daddy isn't feeling well. He looked up from his breakfast as if it suddendly made perfect sense to him why daddy wasn't feeling well.

Dylan: "Daddy baby tummy?"
Me: "No honey, daddy is just sick. No baby in Daddy's tummy."
Dylan: "Mommy nauseous?"

I guess he really does listen and picks up on our adult conversations. One that unfortunately we have in this household too often recently.