We woke up this morning with just enough time to get dressed and out the door before we were late for school. While I hustled to make Liam's lunch and feed Finn, Liam hemmed and hawed about what to wear.
"Does this pocket on the back count as an extra pocket?" he asked, standing in the kitchen naked, scratching his head.
"No," I said. "But it doesn't matter. You're not going to Encore today, you're going to Eastwood. You can wear whatever the heck you want."
"But I don't want to wear Encore clothes to Eastwood. I need them for Encore."
"Just...get dressed. Wear whatever you can find. Like, look at me - I'm wearing the exact same thing I wore yesterday. See? It's fine. Just get dressed."
But it's never that simple, is it? By the time he finally came out of his room in a shirt AND pants AND underwear and socks, he announced, "Mama, school is starting RIGHT NOW. I guess we'll just have to play hooky again like we did last week."
"No, no, no," I said, scraping banana off Finn's jammies and slamming the rest of my coffee. "We'll just be a little late. It's fine. Just eat your toast and we'll be out the door."
Three bites in he told me he had a tummy ache.
"Maybe you have to poop," I suggested with a sigh.
"Well," he thought carefully. "I do have to pee." He ran off to the bathroom. Not ten seconds later he yelled, "Mama! I think I have to go to Yakima Valley!!!"
Yakima Valley is Conran Code for throwing up. You know, like yakking? Anyway. Yeah. He totally went to Yakima Valley. And while he was there he was crying, "Now you have two sick boys!"
Poor little thug.
Finn woke up on Monday morning with a fever and by the time Bill got home from work that evening his left eye had swollen shut and he'd been to Yakima Valley three times (on me, of course). I took him to the pediatrician on Tuesday and found out he had a clogged tear duct and (another!) ear infection. I didn't ask too much about the Yakima Valley part but after Liam's trip this morning, I'm kinda wishing I did.
Although Liam doesn't seem to mind at all. As soon as he was done yakking he said cheerfully, "Now we really will have to play hooky!" Then he stripped back down to his underwear, curled up on the couch and said, "You know what helps when you go to Yakima Valley? Watching TV or playing on the iPhone. Screens definitely help." When I brought him some crackers and ginger ale to help settle his stomach the look on his face was like, "Nuh-uh. For breakfast?! BEST DAY EVER!!!"
The next time he barfed he said, "At least we have a fun expression for it. That makes it not as bad." If it wasn't so messy, he might wish for Yakima Valley over school every day. But he's totally not down with the mess. He won't even wash his hands or brush his teeth in the regular bathroom because he's afraid he might catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. "But buddy, I already washed your face. I promise - you look totally fine!" But he says he doesn't want to risk it. "I'll just take my toothbrush and go to the boat."
He's a total trooper. The only reason I'm not stroking his hair and feeding him chicken soup every second of the day is because he's mostly content curled up next to me with White Bi, playing Angry Birds on his iPhone (also, he hates chicken soup). Finny's doing a lot better, too. He only kind of looks like a tough guy now and he's almost entirely back to his happy self. So we're just chilling. As far as double sick days go, this one's not too bad!