That kind of evening
I hate the evenings where I get off work, pick up the kids from the sitter and rush home to prepare supper. I hated yesterday evening evening more.
Kenyan and Treyton both had a persistent cough and in Treyton’s case, his coughs usually lead to him puking his guts out. I got home and tried my best to prepare a ‘cough friendly’ meal for my ailing little ones. To keep them calm, I also opted for a supper and a movie.
Treyton, who cannot be kept calm by any means, insisted on aggravating his condition by running around and getting into everything. His cough also brought on a mild case of asthma, his little ribs played hide-and-seek under his skin as he breathed. I gave him his puffer and like a switch, he was the energizer bunny. Darting here and there, never stopping to catch his breath. Seemingly, he was content to run on less than a full tank.
Later in the evening, after putting the boys to bed, I had a family showed up to look at a bedroom suite we were selling. While they were looking and haggling over price, the boys yelled to alert me that my fears were realized. “Daddy! Treyton puked! I excused myself and rushed to his aid only to find him wallowing on his bed in a pool of brown stomach fluid. I was grossed out but had to do what I had to do.
I placed him in the tub in preparation for a cleansing and cleaned up the mess. While I was doing that, the doorbell rang. It was the water guy. I met him at the door got trapped into a conversation about the new house and garage shelving. All this time the family was still in my bedroom, still admiring my bedroom suite I hope.
While I was saying goodbye to the water guy, the doorbell rang again, it was someone who was buying an item from our home-based business. The phone also did its part as everyone seemed to be in on a prank to make my evening stressful. It never stopped ringing!
Poor Treyton stood unforgotten in the tub for about twenty minutes! After getting him cleaned up and the boys in bed, it was Kenyan’s turn to empty his stomach. At least he recognized the warnings and made it to the bathroom. I provided support while his stomach convulsed.
When Amie got home, Kenyan had a fever of 101 and Treyton breathing had become a concern. We decided to let him sleep with us for observation. Bad idea. I spent the night staring at him and trying to decide if we should rush him to emergency while he moaned and cried for most of the night. Understandably, one of us had to stay home and that one was, yes you guessed it, the wife.
It was just that kind of evening.