Two nights ago Lake woke me up crying at 1am after having neatly vomited onto the edge of his bed. He’s such a well-mannered thoughtful kid, he even demonstrated how he leaned over so he wouldn’t get his pajamas dirty. Note to self— always turn the light on when woken in the night by a crying child in order to follow the cardinal rule for emergencies: survey the scene for safety! Half-asleep and alarmed by my shrieking son, I set my hand down right into the pile of vomitus, wet and chunky like Mr. Cat’s hairball. I ended up inadvertently smearing the vomitus further onto the carpet. The timing for our new flooring installation couldn’t be better: already scheduled for Monday. I was awake comforting Lake until 3am, wondering what it was he had eaten, as he had explosive diarrhea on the toilet. Was it something that spoiled on our recent camping adventure? Was it our beautiful home grown strawberries? I had let Lake eat the whole crop.

Well, it wasn’t the strawberries 🍓, because in the wee hours of this morning night I was struck with the food poisoning. I hadn’t eaten any strawberries 🍓. It must be something still in our fridge 😳…