Kicking -er- Hitting The Bucket

Agh... So we thought Blake had food poisoning, until a day later Bronz got sick... Then Kamie, and myself.  It wasn't your ordinary garden variety flu either.  Wham Bam Slam.  Whew. Blake was back to feeling normal and since two of us were lying prostrate over buckets, and Bronz was a delicate shade of yellow, My family graciously took Blake for an overnight.  We are all up and feeling pretty good today.  Kamie has her doctor kit out and is happily pretending that her dolly 'lil' Aaron had to go to the E.R. because of the flu.  I'm working on the laundry pile. Try washing every blanket in your house twice in one weekend. 
Kamie was a trooper, and really caught on to the art of 'how to be sick'.  Including one incident where she woke me up to tuck her into bed.
"Sure, honey. How come you're up?"
"I went downstairs drank some juice, it was really good. Then I came up, threw it up in my bucket, wiped my mouth, and now mommy, could you tuck me into bed."
Feeling sick makes me:
Empathize in a tiny way with the struggles my friends with chronic health issues have.
Appreciate my overall very good health.
Enjoy the ordinary.
It felt so good to be able to sit up and feed the kids oatmeal, and cuddle in bed, and crawl chase the little guy, and find hidden pictures with Kamie.
And I think I kinda fell all over, in love again, when my greenish/yellowish husband was holding my head up, and brushing my hair out of my eyes while I was tossing my cookies (or kidneys, or possibly toenails.)