I just got my bell rung by my 12 year old son.
(It was an accident! The story is just too funny not to tell.)
I had heard Niklaus in the bathroom at about 5am. He poked his head into my bedroom door and said that he wasn't feeling good and that he felt like throwing up. I took note and tried to go back to sleep. I had to go to the bathroom and I was just about to stand up when he came to the door and said, "Mom! I have to puke!"
Uh, uh, uh...
I hurriedly stood and was halfway through pulling up my pants when he busted in, swooped me out of the way, one-arm, football tackle-style. I tumbled into the corner whirlpool bathtub, trying to figure out how I ended up there, while he threw up in the waste paper basket, and all over everything.
Poor guy! He finished and kept saying "I'm sorry, Mom!" But I just couldn't stop laughing at how ridiculous I must have looked: pants, all bunched up, sprawling arms and legs, laying in the tub with a confused look on my face.
As silly as it was, and as unfortunate as it is that he didn't feel well...I actually kind of admired his skills in getting a big body out of the way with such expedient efficiency!
STMA football is going to really get a treasure next year! 7th grade football coaches and Middle School West: You're welcome!
