My mom said that my brother, sister and I did this till we were all around ten years old. She said sometimes we’d skip a year here and there, but for the most part, we’d be sick around birthday time. And it looks like little Monkey has inherited that gene.
My poor boy was yacking his guts out last night. Then, when that came up clear, the “party downstairs” took over. He’s pretty much cleaned out now, thank the Lord. (Is that too much information for you? I’m sorry. I can’t control what I write today because I’m suffering from PTSD – it’s a lot when you clean up another person’s fluids and it drips down your arms. I’m just saying.)
Anyway, let’s look at my sink now so we can erase the horrible visuals my experience may have created for you: