So. I had the worst Mother’s Day ever. Well, the one worst one for me,at least.
To put it bluntly, I got a new toothbrush.
There’s a story here, of course. I got a new toothbrush because that’s what I do every time I get so sick that I find myself moaning over my aching stomach. And when my stomach hurts that much, there’s pretty much only one way out of it. Oh yes. On my knees in the wee hours of the morning, thanking the Good Lord above that the drop-in toilet thingy is doing its job because my face is about to up close and personal with the porcelain throne.
Stomach properly emptied, I returned to bed and slept pretty much most of the rest of the day.
Less than twenty-four hours later I felt much better, keeping food down and my fever was gone. Poor Phil went down about that time, though he didn’t get it nearly as bad.
But what, what, WHAT does this have to do with the title of this post?
I’ll tell you. Two of my boys are receiving sacraments this weekend. We’ve got houseguests coming. The boys can NOT get sick.
It’s been two days since Phil got sick and all the kids seem fine.
But if you could spare a prayer, could you say one that my kids stay healthy?
Thanks, I owe you one!