Getting to the guts of the matter

Today’s very short blog post is brought to you courtesy of Miss Oh Waily’s dickie tummy.

At around 4am last night we were woken to the sounds and activity of a small child making her way to the bathroom.  Details of the activity are not required, other than to mention bedsheets required changing and bowls were required bedside equipment for the remainder of the night.  Which was spent in the big people’s bed with Dad.  Mum, to give everyone enough room to flail around as needed, bunked down with son.  Nothing like a bit of parent and child bonding time, however it comes.

So today has largely been one spent being as sedentary as possible.  The Miss seems to have fought off whatever it was that caused the problem having only been ill another couple of times before falling asleep.  All clear today, thankfully, as whatever it was made its way through her system to wreak mild havoc on her lower internal systems.  No details required there either.

Throughout the day, until mid afternoon, the food has been bland and minimal in quantity.  The attachment to Mum has been considerably more in demand, but that’s fine too.  It’s part of the job after all.   In this household, however, it is rarely called upon.

Despite reading and hearing comments from many mums about this week’s latest bug attack (or perhaps if they’re lucky, monthly) and the amount of sheet washing and random cleaning they do, I am still rather puzzled as to why it seems to pass us by.
My kids go to daycare three days a week, only two hours at a time, but nonetheless they are not sad, home-educated hermits under the charge of some stringent hygiene freak.
How come in the five years of Miss Oh Waily’s life we’ve had probably a sum total of three similar illnesses?  And Master Oh may have had one in his three years?  (Not that I’m keeping score or anything.)

It certainly isn’t my constitution that’s giving them the advantage.  Although, in fairness, I tend to illnesses in the cold and flu spectrum rather than the purging variety.   It is much more likely that the lucky children have inherited Mr Oh Waily’s iron constitution.  Bless him.  What a great gift to have passed along.  For the kids and for my sheet washing.

How about your family?  Iron constitution or bug magnets?

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