|Image courtesy of Stuart Miles |
He ran and jumped and played, we came home for lunch, I put him down for his nap, and everything seemed fine. It wasn't until a few hours later, after he woke up, that the "scene from The Exorcist" eruptions began to literally spew out of him. Within 8 hours it was clear that no family member was going to be spared this indignity. Suffice it to say I'm pretty grateful for the "sanitize" settings on my washer and dryer right now.
With the gift of hindsight, it's pretty clear that his morning fussiness was because of the coming (literal) shitstorm. Given the incubation period of the average norovirus, it is only now clear to me that he was probably contagious as he was was all up in your face. And your kid's face. And slobbering all over the toys. In my defence, if I had known what lay only mere hours ahead, I never would have taken him out. Really, I had no idea! Nevertheless, if it makes you feel any better, (and as you furiously work on decontamination, it probably doesn't) I feel like a giant asshole for unknowingly spreading a plague. Just remember how cute he is and how happy that hug made you as you plot your revenge.