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This post is not for the weak-stomached. . .
It’s kinda’ sad, but I really can’t refer to my children anymore as toddlers, but I still do. Micah is four and definitely a big boy. We’ve just been through a lovely bout of the flu, and are finishing up the final bits of another ailment called “norovirus” sort of like a cross between the flu and food poisoning (!?) Yes, it is as miserable as it sounds, but at least it is fairly short-lived.
So, Micah who has never thrown up in his life until this weekend, has insisted that throwing up is sin. It could be labeled sin until this weekend, because he had “chosen” not to engage in this vile activity until then. After he finished, he asked, “why did God give me throw up?” Our answer that it was God’s way of getting rid of germs seemed to satisfy him.
Of course, now he’s the expert on throwing up.
Elijah is home today from school since he seems to be experiencing the precursors to norovirus (stomach pain and cramping and not wanting to eat). Micah instructed Elijah to not sit on Daddy’s recliner “because daddy will be worried about it if you threw up on it.” He went on to give him instructions on how to throw up:
“First, go to the bathroom,” he says pointing his finger at Elijah.
“Then go to the toilet.” Elijah is smiling at him and I’m stifling a snicker and trying not to interfere with this very serious lecture Micah is giving him. Micah frowns at Elijah’s smile and says,
“Then, put your head in the water when you throw up.”
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