The Vomit Fairy

What is it about the currently circulating strand of norovirus that somehow requires middle-of-the-night sickness?

Time and again I've seen friends posting on Facebook about their kids waking them up at 2 or 3am with waves of nausea. Some report the splat, others say they found it when their kids cried out in the middle of the night. Seriously, what IS it?

To me, it's the Vomit Fairy. And though Team Wilson typically manages to ward her off, she recently snuck in a visit.

We went to sleep on a Friday night, positively worn out from the adventures of another week in this big life of ours, eager for rest. Everyone was tired but feeling normal. At 2:30am, right on time, the VF arrived. Poor sweet Pearl climbed into bed with us, and by the way oh how I do love snuggles with my middlest girl.

Without a sound, a few seconds later we were both covered in Sick.

The Captain and I sprung into action, and were able to get her bathed, in clean jammies, me changed, and the mess controlled.

A short while later, more Sick, of various persuasions. By morning, we were nearing double-digit rounds of it. She would feel better, try to drink or eat a little something, then the violence would take over and the cycle would begin again.

We rolled up all the rugs and at 7am The Captain was rattling the doors at Publix to forage for coconut water and Gatorade and crackers and Lysol/bleach.

You know, the essentials.

Through it all, Pearl was in amazing spirits. Many times she put her bucket to use while watching some Netflix and went right back to it after we wiped her off. She went outside to help sister and The Captain plant our veggie garden, and loved every minute of digging in the dirt until it hit her again.

For someone who can't handle even one round of Sick without it being an absolute ordeal, I was impressed with Pearl. Other than the first and scariest turn, she never shed a tear.

We spent the nest few days in alert trepidation that the VF would strike again...eyeballing each other and texting cryptic How are you feeling? messages and wondering who would get it/who to avoid next. The Captain sprayed Lysol at us all every few minutes, and I just kept wiping everything down with bleach. By Monday my skin was nearly gone from washing and rewashing and washing again just to be sure Sweet Love didn't get any Sick on her.

Sassafras could not have cared less, and spent half of our sickest day cuddled up on the bed or couch watching movies with sister. She even asked for her own bucket just because she didn't want to be left out.

When Sassafras got up in the middle of the next night, The Captain and I jumped up and started running circles around her trying to minimize the mess we knew was coming.

What? She said. I just have to pee. 

{whew} Crisis averted.

Until next time, VF. May you choke on your wings.