I Nearly Died Over Christmas Break

Well - that's what I'm telling people...

I discovered over the holidays that babies are filthy little animals - like really disgustingly gross and dirty little animals.

A few days before Christmas - The Boy started getting congested and not sleeping well at night, so Mrs. Chronically Insane took him to the doctor and got him some anti-biotics. The congestion cleared up and he started acting a lot better - the only problem was that he started having diarrhea. We assumed that this was a side effect of the medicine, and since he was acting like a happy normal little baby otherwise - we thought nothing of it...

Big mistake.

On Christmas, my buddy Minneapolis Red Sox and his fiancee were in town and stayed the night with my family and I. My kids love these two people - and he and his fiancee both seem to have taken a liking to my kids as well. We all had a nice time playing with Girl's and The Boy's new toys, had some wine and snacks - then went to bed.

When I went to bed, I detected a slight rumbly in my tumbly - but attributed it to all the food and snacks I'd eaten that day.

It wasn't all the food and snacks I'd eaten that day.

At around 1:30am - I stumbled out of bed, doubled over in pain and sweating. I rushed to the bathroom and what proceeded to come out of my ass can be described as nothing other than Satan's flaming ass piss...
Remember the scene in Dumb and Dumber where Jeff Daniels is on the toilet that doesn't flush after Jim Carrey slipped him way too many laxatives?? Yup - kinda like that...

I slowly shuffled out of the bathroom and was halfway to the bedroom when phase 2 hit. I sprinted back to the bathroom, got on my knees and screamed into the toilet for 10 minutes.
These activities were repeated at least 5 times before I remember seeing daylight peak through my windows.

My wife woke up and started with the same symptoms I had. Then at about 7am as I lay in my bed writhing in pain and deciding how I wanted to divide up my humble estate among my 2 children - I heard Minneapolis Red Sox's fiancee come racing into the bathroom and start hurling...

The next few hours are a bit of a blur to me - but I do recall my friends standing at my bedroom door, calling me an Ebola monkey and thanking me for the nice time...

Fast forward a couple days - and my family and I are finally feeling well enough to have made it to the doctor's office. He explained to us that The Boy was harboring something called the Rota virus and that anyone who came in close contact with him over the past week risked catching the same life threatening illness my friend, my wife and I had caught... which just about everyone who had come in contact with him did!

The last I counted - 11 people I talked to after I got sick, including the neighbors, had the same thing - and all of them had held my son at some point in those 24 hours. The doctor said the chances of not catching the dirty baby virus were slim to none - and there wasn't much you could do besides pour boiling water over your hands every 5 minutes and wear a gas mask.
According to the doctor, babies are the biggest offenders when it comes to spreading germs and disease because they are generally cute and everyone wants to hold them and play with them, and also because they tend to shit uncontrollably on people and things.