'run like hell and get the agony over with'

the older my oldest son gets, the more "mom deaf" he becomes. he rarely hears my requests the first time out. questions about his day often bear repeating. when i ask him to run upstairs and fetch me my slippers and a blanket like the trained monkey we bore him to be, it's like i've not spoken a word.

honestly, there are days i think his senses and his fine motor functions have seeped out in a pool of boy juice while he's lounging in front of the tv, glued to espn. he'll only run if it's down court or from a potential attacker (we've not tested that second theory, of course. it's just my hope). but today, my darling boy showed he still has the stamina to take a full on mad dash, prefontaine-style, when given the proper inspiration.

what's the inspiration? could it be the promise of only ice cream for every meal the rest of his life while under my roof? unlimited access to every star wars action figure ever released? a promise to only talk about basketball at every opportunity?

nope.

it's vomit.

sorry. should have warned you.

today, as the boys parked themselves at the kitchen counter for lunch, my youngest used that opportunity to express his distaste for his meal by throwing up. over everything.

ok, it wasn't really a testimonial to the quality of his lunch so much as it was his turn in the house to cop onto the flu bug we've all been fighting this weekend (btw flu? i get it. you're hardcore. you've kicked my ass. seriously. let's just agree to disagree and you can be on your way, k?). at the first retching sign (the telltale "open mouth, silent gag" should be the universal signal to immediately bail on the situation) my oldest leaped away from the counter as if he'd been hit in the ass by a bolt of lightening and dashed upstairs to find me, in the shower, and alert me, e.r. style, of the latest medical malady to hit our home.

(sidenote: i swear i didn't smile too much when i learned of this development and quickly deduced that by being in the shower, i was immune to having to help attend to the aftermath. but there were probably teeth showing. and for the first time ever, i followed those "wash, rinse, repeat" instructions on the shampoo bottle).

his dash was so rapid, according to my husband, that we should consider talking him out of his attempts to care for us in our old age as a basketball great and push him toward a future in track and field.

great idea, i thought, until it struck me how slowly said child actually moved when it was he who brought this malady into our home last week, who's actions prompted the detonation of a lysol cloud so widespread it's a miracle there are any survivors. oh no. he dallied. spreading the wealth of flu germs throughout the house while en route to the nearest bathroom.

the youngest boy's action today was perhaps his attempt to rebuke his older brother.

definitely 'repuke,' at any rate.

yeah, groan away. bad humor's all i've got at this point in my weakened condition.

besides, i'm watching for your universal "open mouth, silent gag" so i can run like hell upstairs and jump in the shower.