Total Barf-o-Rama

We at the Nelson household are crafting a tradition of extreme vomiting on Thanksgiving. It is our way of giving back. Instead of eating tons, we go the other way. Remember last year?

The night before Thanksgiving Willow had caustic and explosive diarrhea that gave her a sore butt so she walked around like she was straddling an imaginary horse. Danielle taught her to say "dirty" as soon as she pooped so we could change her quick. It was pretty painful so Danielle had Willow saying, "no no, ka-ka" which seemed to make her feel a little better.

Danielle was a little nauseous when we went to bed that night. In the middle of the night, we heard Willow crying so I went down to her room to find her standing in an enormous pile of poop and barf. It looked like she had gone swimming in cream of mushroom soup. When I was putting her into the bash she wiped her barf-covered hand across my face and gave me a drippy barf mustache all over my lips. It looked like I had been greedily eating raw cookie dough. After that bath I set up camp in her room so I could stay close.

Then I heard Danielle puking into a bucket upstairs. I came out to check and when I went by Bear's room he said he didn't feel good so I set him up with a Spiderman trash bin to puke into, which he did. I went back into Willow's room where she had pooped more acid that leaked out of her diaper. Then Danielle puked again. Later that morning I went out and got some Gatorade for the dehydrated family. Bear chugged his and then projectile-spewed it, much of it out of his nose somehow. Then he faught some tears and said, "I'm sorry for ruining everyone's Thanksgiving." I assured him that he had not.

Juneau, as far as we can tell, is invincible.

Then it was my turn. Danielle took care of me. The good new is that we are all feeling way better today, the day after Thanksgiving.