Brian and I had a great date night planned tonight. His sister, Betsy, came over to babysit and we were going to dinner and a show. We had tickets to see Avenue Q, a Broadway show that keeps getting amazing reviews. Earlier today Dylan threw up but we were in denial that he was sick. Kept telling ourselves he just ate too much or got jiggled too much. (Sidenote: we were at Baby Boogie, the dance club for kids, when Brian lifted Dylan up in the air above his head and Dylan puked all over him. I hate to say it, but it was hilarious! Looked like something on a sitcom.)
Anyway, it's rare that we have a date night, let alone one with non-refundable tickets, so we hoped for the best and went. At dinner I started to feel queasy and could barely eat, which just served to fill me with guilt that we had clearly left our sick child. Then Betsy called ... he had thrown up twice already.
So, here we are. At home. Missing the show. In the hour that we've been home, he has thrown up an additional two times, once ALL OVER me. Gross. Now he's asleep, so I hope the worst is behind us. But this is definitely not the way we had hoped to spend our Saturday night.
Damn babies.
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