If It’s Team Stimey, It’s Team Spew

Oh my dear lord, I am tired of dealing with puke. It is at the point that I can no longer come up with funny synonyms for barfing. Horking is the last one that made me laugh and that one is all the way from early summer.

I am DONE with all the vomiting. Someone please alert my children.

Do you want to know? I mean, really? Do you want to hear more about Team Stimey and the regurgitation with which we are so familiar? Aren’t you tired of it too?

Really. Someone please alert Quinn.

Last Tuesday, Quinn threw up at lunch and was sent home from school. He was fine. Last Wednesday, Quinn threw up at lunch again. The school nurse thankfully realized that Mr. Weaky McStomachson was okay and sent him back to class. Again, he was fine.

(Although, by all reports, he was terribly perturbed.)

Today Quinn threw up at lunch again and was sent home with the strict instructions that if he is fine that I should bring him back to school in an hour or so.

“Just finishing up the part of lunch that I didn’t barf up, Mom!”

Guess who went back to school at 1:30?

(And he wasn’t even all that perturbed.)

During his brief time at home, I told Quinn he was going back to school in a little while and he said he didn’t want to and when I asked why, he said so very sadly “Because I just got here!”

And that is why he went back to school—because I don’t want his weak stomach/high gag reflex/stuffy nose leads to retching/inability to properly chew to turn into If-I-Puke-I-Get-To-Go-Home-Syndrome.

I feel perfectly fine with sending him back so shortly after upchucking because that kid has no fever and no flu, but I have my fingers crossed that he manages to go the rest of the week without losing his lunch again or I’m going to have start avoiding his teacher’s eyes.

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