Puking

Leo woke us up this night with sounds of distress.  Rushing to his rescue, his mother walked into what could be described as a scene from the exorcist-- puke was everywhere.  Supportingly, I call out from the comfort of the bed to my wife:

Husband:  "Baby, if you need any help let me know."

A good husband knows that this is the obligatory phrase used in order to receive the following response: "Don't worry baby, I got it you can go back to sleep." Much to my dismay this was not the response I received.

Wife:  "Well, he just threw-up, would you help me with the sheets?"

My son had turned into a foul smelling producer of some sort of cheese like goo.  I quickly wrapped the sheets up and took them outside however, this smell-- this horrible smell!  I could not believe how saturated the air in his room had become in just a matter of minutes.  I opened the window and put the ceiling fan on full blast, meanwhile Leo hangs from his mother's arms as he attempts round two in the bathroom sink.  Two hours later we we're still awake and despite the fact that our son had puked for the fifth time up-chucking yellow bile from the deep recesses of his GI he seemed to be in good humor laughing wanting to play with his sleep deprived parents.

Craziness must be one of the lesser known side effects of the stomach flu.