Sick.

Last week Luke and I went to our beloved Chick-Fil-A for a late lunch one day. It was pretty empty due to the off hour, so when Luke went to play in the play area only one other little girl was in there playing. It was great...until I overheard her dad talking to his friend-girl about the horrific diarrhea blow-out his daughter had had at her mom's house the night before and how it was a good thing because it meant that her virus was working its way out of her system. When I heard this my first thoughts were all about how sorry I felt for that mom having to clean that up and how gross it must have been. Then I looked through the glass into the play area at the little girl and her super slimy runny nose and thought, "Oh crap." By that point Luke had been playing in there for a while and had most definitely touched every single square inch of that place. I quickly grabbed him and washed him down and hopped in the car.
 Well, just over 24 hours later he started puking. Awesome. He puked about once an hour for the next 7 hours.  The strangest thing, though, was that other than the throwing up, he did not act even the slightest bit sick. He didn't have a fever, wasn't pale, and didn't complain about feeling bad. He ran around and laughed and played just like normal. He even helped Daddy mow for a while, and it was serious business. Thankfully we didn't have to endure the horrible diarrhea part of the virus, and by the next day, you never would have known how sick he had been. We laid low for a few days, though, and may never look at a CFA playground the same.