Ker-FLUEY

The baby has the flu or some sort of vicious bug. I will spare you the details, but let's just say his system is firing from both ends, simultaneously. If you've ever had a child -- or been a child -- you know what I'm talking about. It's unpleasant for everyone involved.

However, Ian is muddling through, because he's a tough little man. He's not a complainer. I'd like to think he gets it from me. [Heh.]

Finn, on the other hand, is our sensitive guy. He hates when his little bro is sick. It makes him anxious and teary. His nurturing side kicks in, big time.

Last night, Ian produced a particularly bad double-blowout in which everything from his diaper to the front and back of his jammies to his hair was covered in all manner of noxious bodily fluids. After a moment of shocked panic -- "What... the hell?!"-- Jon and I mobilized. I grabbed Ian and deposited him on the floor of the bathroom, with Jon close on my heels. We began to strip him down, tossing his clothes directly into the garbage. (Seriously, there was no going back on those pajamas.)

"OK, you fill the bathtub. We need towels, lots and lots of towels. OLD ONES!"

"Right, I'm on it, and I'll grab some clean jammies and get a load of laundry started!"

"Cool, and... break!"

After ten minutes, we had the situation under control and the windows flung open, airing out the house. And then we heard the vacuum going. What the...?

It was our sweet Finn, madly vacuuming the living room. "I didn't know what else to do!" he said in despair. He just wanted to help, somehow.

That's my boy. Love that guy. Both of 'em. All three of 'em.

*****

Update: Ian is on the mend. Now we're just waiting for the bug to hit someone else. I'm guessing we're in for a long weekend.