Our house was like a doctor's office today. When I woke up, I was pleasantly surprised to see that the clock read 8:00. I went into Booker's room, to find him curled up in a ball moaning that his "tongue and tummy hurt." I moved him out to the couch and grabbed a bowl just in time. In between vomiting, I tried to explain to Booker what was happening.
"Booker, its okay- just let it come up and spit in the bowl. Don't look so panicked. You're sick and throwing up."
"I NOT." Gag, spit, gag, spit.
"But look, there's vomit in that bowl. You're throwing up. Don't you see?"
"I NOT!!! I not throw up, Mommy." Barf.
"Well, fine. But don't stray too far from this bowl."
I secretly like it when Booker is sick. He transforms from this independent little tyrant to a sad, sweet, little puppy dog, completely reliant on me. And unlike me, he doesn't exaggerate his pain and discomfort. He won't even admit that something is wrong- I NOT, MOMMY. Its fun for a little while... until he misses the bowl. With extra doses of Super Why and Thomas the Tank Engine, I think he'll make a full recovery.
Then at lunch time, an actual doctor came to our house. Well, not really. I think she was just a nurse. Clark and I are getting life insurance, so a nurse came to our house to determine if we are fit for life... or insurance... or something. She took our blood, urine, weight, height, blood pressure, and Clark even had an EKG- all in the comfort of our home. It was actually quite humiliating and those things should really be reserved for the doctor's office only and not my living room.
I tend to think that Clark and I are shoo-ins for life insurance. We're both extremely fortunate to be healthy, with pretty good family histories. We don't do drugs- we don't even drink or smoke. We don't participate in any extreme sports or risky activities (although, I'm pretty bad at skiing: me + mountain = disaster most of the time). We don't have plans to travel to any exotic countries anytime soon. I wouldn't consider Egypt exotic, or at least not deadly. In fact, USAA should be paying us to insure our lives, not the other way round... because really, our lives are seriously, so blessed!
All jokes aside, we are quite blessed/fortunate/lucky for our good health and for everything else we've been given. Even on days when I'm cleaning up vomit, I'm pretty happy with my lot in life. Here's hoping that this is my last post ever about life insurance, because I know it won't be my last post about cleaning up vomit.