This ain't my idea of a weekend

Well.
Friday, 10:30pm - Went to bed. Expecting Greg home between 12:30 & 1:00am.

Sometime in the night - Woken up by crying.
A moment of alarm: Greg isn't home!
Notice the time: 12:39am. Relieved

Crying turns more to shrieking. It's Dale. Having a nightmare, maybe?
I rush to his room, as he is starting to sound pretty panicky. It is then that I understand what he is saying/crying/almost screaming: "I need to throw up!"

We run to the bathroom. Dale soon feels better. I call Greg. He is 5 minutes from home.

Saturday
1:15 am - Greg is home. Dale pukes again.

2:00 am - We decide that's all we're going to hear from Dale and we go to bed.

Almost 4:00 am - Alan is awake. Nurse him back to sleep.

A little after 4:00 am - I'm back in bed

5:59 am - Alan is awake. I get up with him.

7:30am - Alan and I crawl into bed w/Greg.

7:40am - Dale is awake. And puking.

8:00 am - Alan is asleep. Dale pukes again.

8:15 am - Greg and I 'enjoying' coffee & donuts. Dale pukes again.
Under my breath, while Dale's head is hanging over the toilet, I whisper, "poor baby."
Dale finishes his deed and sits down on the stool. I cool him with a wet washcloth.
He says, "Why'd you say 'poor baby', Mama, why?"
At least he doesn't know to feel sorry for himself!
I on the other hand, see a long, long day ahead. ;-)