Ambushed by a Foreign Invader

You will understand shortly!

My fantastically wonderful and handsome son-in-law was ambushed by a foreign invader……at least that’s how he felt. That’s the only thing that can describe what took place after my trip to Denver. I secretly believe he missed me and my egg sandwiches, but I’m not sure that would make you hurl.

Anyway, I had only been home just a few days when Whitney sent me a text about what took place at her house over the course of a couple of days.  

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Warning: This conversation is raw and undiluted. It may not be for the queasy.

Disclaimer: I can not be held accountable for the C-word used on a few occasions. And the word Gross may have been used quite a few times, also.

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On Sunday morning, Whitney sent me a text saying that Jason had some kind of nasty stomach virus. Apparently, he had been throwing up and had diarrhea all night…..along with a fever. She said he was feeling somewhat better, but was wondering how likely it was that she could catch it by just being in the same apartment. She asked, “Should I go get a surgical mask”?

Oh, wait! OMG! Flashback!

That question took me back a couple of years ago to when the Swine Flu was going around really bad here. My sister and her whole family came down with it. So, being the awesome sister that I am and concerned about their eating habits (disregard the restaurant of choice), decided to take them some lunch. Just like Whitney, I feared of being infected with the swine flue….so I took matters a little seriously.

This is me......Swine Flu protected!

Ok, back to the present.

As the texting continued, Whitney was still dwelling on catching the virus. She said to me, “Mama, I think you need to come back and take care of Jason. I’m very afraid of stomach viruses. I’ve been Lysoling the crap out of everything and walking around the house wearing a surgical mask. I don't do viruses”. 

Well, that's not likely. I just about had enough of planes for awhile. Next trip, I might have to make a batch of brownies or an egg sandwich or something and bribe the pilot...to see if he will let me sit up there with him for awhile. I could offer to let him wear my compression socks. I heard they work wonders on pilots who have to sit for hours. It could be entertaining. I'm just saying..... 

Later that night, Whitney texted that Jason was feeling better. She said his fever never came back and that his stomach was fine. But, she still wanted to know how long he would be contagious…..so she Googled it. And Google told her that if it was the Norovirus, it could be up to three days.

But never fear! “I disinfected the crap out of my apartment”. She said, “I even washed the shower curtain and Lysoled the shampoo bottle”.

I thought that might be uber extreme, but not Whitney. She told me that the shower curtain is right next to the toilet and that particles float around in the air!! 

“Eeeewwww! Gross, Whitney”!

“Well”, she says, “It’s true! Anyway, I better go make Jason some food so he doesn’t infect the kitchen”.

So a couple of days go by and Cliff, my husband, comes home from work with a stomachache. Uh oh! Just a couple of days after leaving Whitney and Jason and now a couple of days after being home and now he’s getting sick. I’m starting to wonder if I’m a carrier. I mean, was there a rhesus monkey on the plane or something? Maybe that’s what was wrong with the dude who drank the Jack Daniels and his head wouldn’t quit shaking. It’s enough to make you wonder. I should have called the flight attendant and have her check under the seat. Oh well, hind sight. Not sure that would have done any good, anyway.  Cliff was lucky, though. His only lasted a few hours. Probably something he ate. He’s notorious for eating sandwiches and such that has been sitting out all day at work.

The texting picks back up Wednesday when Whitney asks, “Mama, Guess who’s barfing now and it’s not me”?

Bless it!

Well, it could only be one other…..Kitter. Kitter?

“Yes! Kitter just puked in the bathtub! I think she’s got the virus!”

Well that is just gross. I told my mother, aka Granny Pat, and she wanted to know if Kitter was pregnant. Not likely, according to Whitney. She’s been fixed and she has never left the apartment.  But if Kitter doesn’t quit barfing in Whitney’s tub, she’ll probably wish she was. At least the Kitter would have a good excuse. Ha!

Whitney also texted the following, “Uggg, I haven’t worked out since last Friday because I’ve had a headache since Saturday and I’m afraid if  I go breathing all heavy and rolling around on the floor, I’ll get a stomach virus. Send me on a vacation.”

I just told her to come home. I plug that every chance I get. Ha! So far, it hasn’t worked. Gah, I don’t know what’s wrong with children these days! You raise them, give them the best years of your life and they grow up on you and move across country. And if you tell them that you’re moving in with them, they tell you "fine….but I’m putting you in the basement".

Again Whitney texts, “It appears to be an eating too fast incident that ended in cat vomit in my tub. I had Kitter quarantined all day in case she caught the stomach virus from Jason….phew.”

Whitney had quarantined Kitter in the spare bedroom. I asked if she had checked under the bed for vomit and she said no, but that she had gone in with a mask and gloves….checked around the bed and litter box for diarrhea. She made Jason check under the bed because she refused to get on the floor due to the disease.

The only thing I could say was, “I’m going to use this in my blog! Can you take a picture of Jason checking under the bed for vomit?”

And, there you have it! He's looking for the product of foreign invaders.

The End.

Have a nice day!

Laurie