William woke up with it yesterday morning; Katie succumbed late yesterday afternoon. They've been lounging on the couch all day watching cartoons and now they're both sleeping. (It's pretty cute, really--they're sleeping on opposite ends of the couch with a big pillow between them to share.) It's so quiet I can hear the computer humming and it's disconcerting.
I know one of the great truths of life is that nobody likes to throw up, but Katie hates it more than anybody I've ever seen. She takes it personally. Last night she threw up all night, and may God forgive me, but there is something inherently funny about an irate 5 year old screaming, "That is disgusting! I don't ever want to see that throw up again!"
Will keeps updating me on what hurts and what doesn't hurt. Strangely, I can't quite get a read on exactly how he's feeling, because what hurts seems to bring him near tears just to tell it ("When I sneeze, then I have to cough, and that hurts!") but then he will blink away the tears and say cheerfully, "But at least I'm not throwing up like you guys. That would be worse." Always the philosopher, this kid.