About 3 years ago we decided that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to let our kids in on a little piece of American culture and expose them to what they would inevitably come to know and long for- the McDonald's Happy Meal. Once in a great while it couldn't be so bad, right? Wrong. Gabe puked it up like his little virgin tummy had never had trans fat before. Scared the heck out of him and he hasn't wanted McDonald's since. Fast forward to 1:47 a.m. Sunday morning. "Gabriel threw up all over me," shrieked Breanna as she hovered over our bed. Huh?! By the time I calmed Gavin down and got him back to sleep Chuck already had Gabe in the shower while Breanna fought off her gag reflex changing her sheets. Guess we forgot to tell her you have to rinse out the chunks before you throw them in the washer. I learned what dried, crusty bits of red bell pepper and meat (more on that later) look like when they come out of the drier. After everyone got cleaned up and played musical beds we were up again very shortly trying to get Gabe to the bathroom before he blew chunks all over our bed and floor. He didn't make it. This scenario repeated itself a few more times before dawn. So, needless to say, we spent our weekend washing towels and sheets, napping, and sanitizing any hard surface he'd come in contact with. Poor little guy. We can't completely blame it on McDonald's. After breakfast he went to a pool party and had his fair share of cake, pizza, and popsicles. And since I didn't have time to go to the grocery store and the kids were about to starve to death I stopped and got fast food burritos for dinner. Put it all together and it makes for a not-so-fun Saturday night. He stayed home with me today and broke his perfect attendance streak. He was bummed but still wasn't feeling well and asked if we could "cancel school today".
On a positive note, we got our Christmas tree!
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