still blessed

It seems that I have become quite a germ-o-phobe these days. Especially when it comes to vomit.

When Caleb was sick last weekend, I broke out the Lysol. I washed my hands more times that anyone could count. I washed in hot water anything that was near the bed. Any linens that were near the bed for 24 hours after went into the wash, in hot water of course.

Imagine my relief when no one else got sick. Phew.

Now imagine my dread then at the following situation yesterday. I went to a playdate at a friend's house. We've only been there one time before. About five minutes after arriving, Micaiah starts acting really strange, sitting on my lap and not wanting to play. "Micaiah, what's wrong?", I asked.

And then it came. The vomit. In this lady's back yard. Inside I was shouting, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!", while saying out loud to my sickie, "It's okay, baby. I didn't know you weren't feeling good!" He had been fine. Thank God we had been outside and not inside my friend's house!

So, we get home and four hours later, he's better. Only I'm not better...mentally, that is. I imagine all of the germs around the house and picture everything he has touched for the past month. I make him strip down to his underwear and I wash as many things as I can in hot water, but you can't wash everything. I do my best, wash my hands a million times and pray. It went something like this: "Dear God, please, please, please do not let me get sick. I have so many things to do this weekend. Oh, Goooooddddddd please have mercy on me!"

Would you believe that I ran out of Lysol yesterday? Of all the times. So, the boy is better and I'm picturing myself hanging over the toilet all day, still begging God to spare me. Can you understand why my mom calls me a drama queen?