Being the woman of faith that I am, I sat Brynn and Toby down this morning and had the don't-think-you-can-mosey-to-the-toilet talk, because I know this stuff. They will pass this around like a beach ball, like a filthy bacteria-ridden snot-covered beach ball. And no one will vomit or do anything else in an authorized location, because that's so typical.
So I'm waiting. Tristan's got the worst of it, walking around with a siren-whine that is pitiful and adorable at the same time. R2 is definitely a little under the weather, and Brynn's showing some signs of contracting the plague as well. I'm feeling decidedly, perpetually queasy, but that's probably because I am living in the bowels of the underworld.