It started this morning.
I came downstairs and was immediately commisioned to cuddle siblings on the couch as they watched cartoons. My little sister Ella came over and snuggled right up to me.
It was later, as I was eating breakfast, that I learned that Ella had spent the time before I came downstairs puking.
Ella puked on and off all morning.
Next to fall was Joseph.
And then, my dad got home early, and slumped through the door announcing he had a sick stomach and had to leave work at 3:30.
Now it's just myself, my mother, my sister Meg, and my baby brother Jacob.
The house is filled with the horrible sounds of people intermittently moaning and puking into ice cream buckets.
The whole place is filled with this awful atmosphere of suffering and fear.
Okay, it's not that bad, but Meg is acting like it's the bubonic plague and we must avoid catching it at all costs. I myself have consumed enough garlic to sicken a lab rat. Raw garlic is the only effective substance to keep one from getting sick. I haven't caught the stomach flu in over two years because of garlic, but you never know.
Needless to say, my breath could KILL the said lab rat.
However, I can think of no better time to be suffering, even if I'm not the one puking, than during Lent. Sometimes you just have to pick up the cross...even when the cross is a puke bucket.
Hopefully it'll all be over soon, and those of us who are still standing don't get it.
Prayers would be appreciated.