Marvelous. (Said with *much* sarcasm)

It's 7.30 a.m. Caleb is staying home from school. Again.

At 4.23 a.m. I hear a little voice saying, "Mommy." Here's the conversation:

-Mommy.
-What Caleb?
-Mommy, I have 2 things to tell you.
At this point I'm thinking that he's probably had a bad dream. He's had those lately.
-What. Note the lack of a question mark. It wasn't a question "What?" but more of a confirmation that I was still awake at this point. Like you'd say "right" or "left" when someone asked you which way to turn at the end of the street.
-The first thing is that I threw up. The second thing is that I left my money in my jeans.
I'm amazed that the child can be so blase about throwing up. At least it was his "first" thing and not his "second" thing. And the money? What's up with that? It was at least 8 hours before.
-WHAT? Did you make it to the toilet?

At this point I'll stop the dialogue. He threw up 3 times in his bed. THREE TIMES. Why does the child not think to make it to the toilet? What is up with that? At the first sign of maybe getting a bit ill, Audrey runs to the potty, but Caleb pukes all over himself and his bed. Nasty. At least I'm not the designated puke parent. That's Steve's job.

So 3 little puddles of puke. He had been sleeping in his Spongebob sleeping bag that the Adams fetched from home for us, so it, his jammies and his "pee pad" (the pad he sleeps on to protect his bedding) were tossed in the washer. I need to go put them all in the dryer now.

And eat breakfast. And get my "morning happiness" - coffee.