Tikkabik

Friday night -- St. Patrick's Day -- was my niece's confirmation. Bonnie is Brandy's godmother, so she needed to get to the church early. I dropped her off and took the kids to McDonald's for a quick bite to eat before the ceremony was to start at 7.

James had dozed off, but we woke him up and ushered him inside. As we were standing in line waiting to order, James mentioned he felt sick to his stomach. I turned around just in time to see him throw up all over the floor not once but twice.

I carried him into the bathroom where he threw up again, this time into a toilet. Cleaned him up a bit, and then went across the street to Wal-Mart to buy him replacement clothing. Unfortunately there was no time left for eating. Not that any of us had any real desire to do so after James' display.

We got to the church just in time to get seats -- the place was packed. I turned around right before the ceremony started and saw James sitting there, glassy-eyed. "You feel okay?" I asked.

"Nope," he said. "I still feel sick to my stomach."

He stood up and threw up a bit. I ushered him outside, where he threw up again on the steps of the church. Twice. We spent the rest of the ceremony in the van, where he threw up again (fortunately he got outside the first time, and had a bag in his hand the second time). By the time we got home, he was retching again, dry-heaving.

Saturday James was off, whiny and miserable, but at least he wasn't throwing up, even if he wasn't eating that much.

This morning -- Sunday -- Emme threw up three or four times after breakfast.

So far Bonnie, Bob and I haven't been afflicted, but we're wary.