The Gift That Keeps on Giving

Another holiday season has come to a close. The gifts are all unwrapped. The cookies have been eaten. (And eaten. And eaten some more.) But the icing on the gingerbread house? Santa left a stomach bug in somebody's stockings. Or, uh, britches?

Santa spreads the love. Stomach virus anyone?

Okay, so technically it didn't start until the day after Christmas, so maybe the jolly old man in red didn't leave it after all. (But you have to admit, the timing is a little coincidental.) If you've ever had a stomach virus, know that having a child with a stomach virus is about 1,000 times less fun. Basically they turn into little crapping, puking machines with extremely poor aim. For some reason, it seems to affect the littlest ones in my house and sure enough, the almost 2 year old is the one currently afflicted.

The good news is, by kid number four, puke pretty much doesn't even faze me anymore. I'm more upset about the non-stop laundry I've been doing than the hands and knees Clorox scrubbing my floor has been getting. And the smell....why is it that a vomit-y stench can permeate every molecule of air in your house and make it feel like you live in a puke bowl? There's nothing worse than that sick smell in your house. It makes you feel unclean. It makes you feel contaminated.

It sends you running for the Vitamin C and Lysol.

Yes, that mad woman laughing maniacally whilst running from room to room with an aerosol can and a vitamin container...that's me. Clorox wipes. Check. Disinfecting spray. Check. Extra large jug of laundry detergent. Check. Making sure not one single body more than necessary gets infected by the creeping crud that has invaded our abode? Absolutely check, check, and please God if you can hear me, triple check.

The saddest thing is that the poor kid can't seem to shake it. Today was day four and I, completely concerned bordering on I might have to panic, called the doctor's office. Did you know that these damn viruses can hang around for seven to ten days? Let me repeat that. SEVEN TO TEN DAYS. It's possible that he'll have periods of non-puking activity. He might even stop crapping for a few hours. Only to have it return intermittently and without warning. I think this could be used as a form of torture for some evil dictator in a B grade action flick.

"Muah ha ha ha. If you won't talk, I'll give you the Really Horrible Stomach Virus That Never Ends. You'll dream of that upchuck smell for years to come! Muah ha ha ha ha."

Seriously? This thing is like a Christmas fruitcake. No one wants it but it gets passed around every year anyway.

I hear fruitcake makes a lovely doorstop though.

So if you want to visit, you might want to wear a hazmat suit. Or wear a mask. Or bring a Lysol grenade. Otherwise, you might end up with the gift that keeps on giving. And giving. And giving.......