If midnight is the witching hour, than two a.m. is surely the hurling hour. It never fails when my kids get the earps, it always happens in the wee hours of the morning. Why don't stomach bugs keep banking hours? (yes, I know smart a** - answer: because they aren't bankers. thanks!). But c'mon, must they always strike during the lobster shift?
Why doesn't Dr. Sanjay Gupta tackle this one sometime?
Anyway, as you guessed, our buddy "Ralph" (I'm going to see just how many euphemisms for vomit, I can work into this posting) came a calling early this morning. My five year old fell victim. Poor thing. The good news: she has clearly rebounded back already and is now downstairs enjoying a decadent day of flipping between Nickelodeon and The Cartoon Network in her jammies. I peeked in on her awhile ago and she had the cat swaddled in a comforter and was using her as a pillow. The cat wasn't squealing - much!
The other thing that comes with these two a.m. puke calls (ha, gotta another one in), it's the same time Moms get put on notice that yes, your day will be a total loss. Look forward to being sidelined and drafted into nursing and pampering duty (not so bad, sometimes, I have to admit.. especially since you get to do it in your jammies).
I've really never been sure what is supposed to happen during the witching hour. But as a Mom, I got two a.m. down pat.
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