My poor little boy

When I got up this morning no one else was out of their little burrows yet. I took a few minutes to check blogs and enjoy my solitude before it was time to go wake the girl so she would be ready for her ride to pre-school.
When I got upstairs Enzo was on the potty. In the hallway outside the bathroom were his pants and a blob of something ickish. “I sick Mama,” he said “My tummy feels icky”
I’d heard him go in and climb on the potty a few minutes previous, there was no heaving or hacking involved so I figured the ick must be poop.
Until I found some in the sink.
I left him there on the potty while I jostled his sister out of sleep. Then I returned to the bathroom to attack the mess and figure out how he either A)vomited silently, or B) pooped in the sink.
I was asking him “Did this come out of your mouth or your bum?” (something you never expect to hear yourself say) when Zizza came out of her room and told me she’d heard him throwing up. After a few baffled moments, wondering how I’d missed that, she told me it happened last night. The silent vomiting mystery was solved.
I asked Zizza to please, if she ever hears him vomiting again to come and fetch me. She said “Ok” but she really couldn’t do that last night because she’d been asleep at the time of the incident it was only her ears that were awake.
I feel so bad for my poor little boy puking all alone, and then tucking himself back in bed.
Later, as I was snuggling him before his nap he held tight around my neck and told me all about it. “I cough in the hallway, I cough in the sink, and then I cough in the potty.” He told me over and over.
poor darling

4 Responses to My poor little boy

  1. All tender feelings for Enzo aside, that is a very funny sentence. The end.

    word verification: prophi: n – plural of the word prophet, often used in reference to the first presidency and quorum of the twelve as a group.

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