Another fallen soldier

Well, two down, one to go. Cooper came down with the bug last night, at 6:45pm. By midnight he seemed over it and was asking to eat. Huh… a 5 hour bug?

The Bob has not fallen victim yet, but I seem to be over it, and so does Coop. He was decidedly UNHAPPY with the vomiting thing. So we are on Bob Watch, 2008. I imagine if he gets it, it will happen in the next 12 hours.

My sister in law, the ever so funny Cathy, wanted to know if I was sure I wasn’t pregnant. HAHA. Soooo funny. NO, I am not pregnant. And it wasn’t food poisoning either. It was a stomach bug. My neighbor has also been battling it in her house. Without a functioning washing machine. GROSS. At least we could take all articles of clothing etc. right down to the basement and deal with it. Fortunately I think we saw a delivery of a new machine to her house last night. I don’t know who you can buy from that delivers on a Saturday night, but thank little baby Jesus and the three wise men you CAN from somewhere. I am pretty sure that dealing with a stomach bug without a functioning washing machine might just put most marriages right over the edge. At least here in the US.

Enough about being ill. The other thing I did this morning was go rehearse with Harvey Finstein, the guy in charge of our jazz ensemble. He has invited me to sing two songs with him when he performs at a jazz club here in Boston next Sunday. He has a trio he will be performing with and is being very generous. He must think I am capable of this or he wouldn’t invite me, right? OY. It will be very fun and very nauseating all at the same time. Back to nausea again. But in a good way this time.

I will let you know how it goes. In the meantime, I have to go see if I still won the Timex Ironman trainer thing. The one time I win something and I may miss out due to vomit.

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1 Comment

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One response to “Another fallen soldier

  1. Oz

    Glad to hear the bug hit Cooper for such a short period of time.I thank the lord at least once a week for our washing machine. I am so glad that my laundromat days did not overlap with my mama days. Hauling poop-smeared PJs to the laundromat is not my idea of a fun Saturday.

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