We are down to one puking child. The boys were all fine today. In fact, Tyler, my boy who is almost sixteen asked if I could get him "Louies" for dinner. For those of you who are not from around here, that would be a hot dog place. Yeah, the boy actually wanted me to get him hot dogs for dinner when less than twenty-four hours ago he was puking his guts out.
Aaaah. The joys of having sons!! Unfortunately my little Amelia, age six, came down with it early this morning, five in the morning to be exact. She threw up a few times, stopped for a couple of hours, puked again at noon, and then was fine. Until we put her to bed at nine. Then she tossed her saltines.
She is the last one. Well, Liz, Dave and I did not get it at all. Probably I have been spared because my hands have been in scorching hot bleach water all day. I have done about ten loads of towels, and blankets, and sheets, with plenty of bleach.
Bleaching the tables, bleaching the counter tops. Spraying Lysol like a woman who has bought stock in the product!
Tomorrow is the toy give away. I will be downstairs at the mission, smiling, and wishing moms and dads a Merry Christmas. God blessing them. Letting them know that Jesus does really love them. They are not forgotten.
My older kids, God bless them, will be holding down the fort. With only one sick, I feel pretty okay about leaving them to give out toys. Besides, I think by the morn, she will be fine too. Right now she is sleeping, snuggled up on recliner. Big sister will sleep on the couch.
Everyone chips in here. That's what we do.
We are a missionary family. And I am proud of that.