Camden woke us up around 5am, super pale, wailing that his head hurt and had a bad, phlemy cough.
Which, in the world of Camden means that sometime in the next 10 minutes or so he's going to barf.
He NEVER has a headache unless vomit is about to be involved.
So, I whisked him into the bathroom and told him to sit on the floor, and flew downstairs to get a large plastic bowl (if you ever eat popcorn at our house, make sure it isn't in a powder-blue bowl). Then rushed back upstairs, set him up in bed with an ice pack and some Children's Tylenol and his bowl, and prayed that he was going to be the only one waking up sick this morning.
As predictable as the tides, Cam threw up (in his bowl), and my day of errands immediately was cancelled. Calen left for school and Cam was set up in the playroom on a mattress topper and spent the day watching Star Wars and Mickey's Christmas Carol, playing Disney Infinity and even moped downstairs to watch the Rockettes at Radio City Hall with me on Netflix (of which Cam asked during the 12 days of Christmas number, "do these people EVER stop dancing to this song?"
I did have to take him to work (on base) with me for 10 minutes while I sorted out a schedule issue, so I packed him in the Yukon with his Christmas Mickey pajamas, cowboy boots, reindeer hat (of choice), and barf bucket, which I took a picture of because it was kind of hilariously pathetic.
Mondays, man.
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