Yech, what an ultra-crappy weekend. Well, I suppose a portion of it was all right. Friday night Son slept over at a friend's and Daughter had a friend come to our house. Saturday started off calm enough, but ended on a doozy of a sour note.
First off, have I mentioned the bedroom AC is broken? If not, it is. Tulsa is in some Twilight Zone weather-wise and the heat we've been having is nuts. Scary, scary stuff!!! Anyway, after calling literally a dozen AC service companies (our usual was so busy, they couldn't come till this week Thursday), we found one to come Saturday. The guy said he'd be there between 10 & 12. He got there a little past 3. Not a problem, we didn't have much going on anyway. Now, remember how we got that surprise money last week? And how thrilled we were to finally get a chance to get ahead?
Apparently the motor is out on the AC. The part is $450. God only knows what labor will be. Talk about putting a downer on Saturday night. Ugh.
Forcing ourselves to get over it, it's only money, yadda, yadda, yadda, we went out to rent movies. Lounging in our disgustingly hot bedroom, we watched One For the Money starring my boyfriend, Matthew McConaughey. (Remind me later to tell you why we couldn't watch in the lovely, arctic-chilled TV room--looooong Granny Sylv story.)
Okay, so there Hubby and I and dogs are on the bed, window fan set on gale-force, when our bedroom door slams open, and in strolls this pale, zombie-like creature looking suspiciously like our son, sobbing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm--" Right away, your stomach sinks, cause you know this can't be good. Apparently, he didn't feel good, and didn't merely throw up, but projectile vomited down a fifteen-foot hall, then proceeded into the downstairs bathroom, where he did it again--everywhere but the toilet. (To emphasize what a truly dire moment this was, a couple hours earlier, he'd feasted on pizza rolls and Raviolios. Seeing how I puke at someone saying the word, puke, Hubby stepped into hero mode and tackled the mess--right outside Granny Sylv's room--while I medicated Son and got him into the tub, trying to calm him down. Good lord, was he sick.
Okay, thinking this was just something Son ate, hours later, we put him in bed and finished our movie, only to have the whole scene repeated around eleven--only this time, he'd projectile vomited in his room, all over the carpet and clothes and the other mountain of crap lurking beside his bed. Hubby reaches for the carpet steam cleaner, only to find we're out of cleaning solution. We hop in the car and head to Wal-Mart--open another forty minutes until they're shut down for Easter.
We made it in time, and by nearly one, had this latest mess tackled. Son, meanwhile, had been banished to our bathroom floor, where I made him a cozy, sleeping bag nest alongside the commode. Seeing how he was feeling hot, I checked him for fever and sure enough, he had 102!!!!!
When he was a kid, he had 104 a couple times, so I wasn't in full-mommy-panic-mode just yet, but getting close, especially since this now meant there was a great possibility he's contagious. Hubby and I had HELLISH throw-up flu like a month ago, and no way were we ready to go through it again. Not only that, but seeing how Son just got back from China, Hubby launches into this never-ending story about how there are bizarre foreign diseases out there where folks come home supposedly fine, only to weeks later come down with mystery sickness.
Anyway, it was a bad, bad night. Wake up Easter morning to do the whole egg routine and Daughter had fun, but Son still had 102.2. My stomach was churning. Seeing how it was just the five of us for Easter, we'd bought a beautiful ham and LOTS of fixings to console ourselves. What a waste when I just knew I'd be puking any second.
Finally, around two, well after I'd made all of my assigned dishes and still hadn't yacked, I got brave enough to make a plate and kept it down fine enough to brave seconds. Whew.
Meanwhile, no one else--knock on wood--has come down sick.
But wait, in an hour, the painters and road crew and AC guy all converge on our house!! Talk about making me sick . . . ;-)