I should have known.

I should have seen that my fractious three-year-old would throw up yesterday evening when his older sister carried him into the bathroom because he complained that his stomach hurt. I should have known that since he was a mean young cuss all day, he didn't feel good.

Luckily Steve was awake to handle it, because I was leery of getting flu germs. I had to wake him up a couple of times in the night to deal with other episodes, praying all the while that the germs hadn't found me.

This morning, Reuben acted perfectly normal, kept down his 2-Tbsp-water-every-ten-minutes-for-an-hour and then his tortilla-chip-every-ten-minutes (in lieu of crackers because we had none), and did not throw up again.

I, however, was completely overwhelmed by the normal chaos and cacophony of Saturday-morning breakfast getting, and it was only 9 a.m. I went back upstairs.

Bapu called us to help unload the truck at 10. My contribution was sitting on a chair in the basement and pointing. The nice neighbor men and boys and my nice children all interpreted very well, so that when I unwisely walked down the hall and had to hold the walls on the way back to my perch, there was a clear path through the basement to the back bedroom, which will be Paul's starting on Monday, when he and Mom are slated to arrive in the pickup. I'm excited!

Apparently Reuben informed Bapu that he needed to go bowling because of his haircut, because Bapu obliged and took my children plus Jason, Nanika, and Haruka bowling after the truck was empty. I went to bed. I like my bed.