It was late.
As in, kids all tucked in, kitchen cleared, computers powered down, sitting on the sofa kind of late.
I was writing a letter to my friend (sorry Sara - I may never get to finish that epistle at this rate) and Kevin was watching (with his eyes closed) some M. Night ShimmyWhoWho movie on television.
And that's when we heard the cry.
"Mommyyyyyyyyyyy." (Hmmm. Now they call my name. Interesting.)
We discovered Mosely in the bathroom, over the toilet, taking care of her little sick self.
We wondered if Mosely had managed to make it to the bathroom before the sickness began. But evidence to the contrary was all over her face. And arms. And shirt. And hair. And, upon further investigation . . . the blankets, the wall, the floor. Oh and yes, the bed she was sharing with Bergen and London.
And so our night began in earnest. At about 1 a.m.
We shifted sleeping, non-sick children to alternate locations. We divided and conquered. Kevin cleaned up the bedroom, I cleaned up the six year old. And mid-process we heard a familiar sound. Behind the closed door of one little Willow.
Sure enough. Sick kid number two. And there was no time for a trip to the bathroom. It was already too late before we even opened the door.
And so we started the process over again. Stripped sheets. Piled up pillows, eagle and anything else unfortunate enough to happen to be in Piper's path.
The night was long. Two baths after 1 a.m. Two beds stripped of sheets. Two beds remade. Two buckets located for any more incidents. Two girls outfitted in new cozy pajamas.
Somewhere along the way, Piper sat up and said, "I am having fun with Mosely in my bedroom." Some fun, Sweet Little Munch. But I like that attitude.
We had at least three more incidents throughout the late evening - maybe more. I might have lost count.
But the day did dawn brighter, no one has been ill all day.
And on the positive side, for the first time in maybe a year or more - every Keigley kid took a nap this afternoon - even London Eli.
So there's your silver lining, I guess.