Rough Eighteen Hours

Poor Asher threw up in his bed last night. I think it was a first for him. He turned down breakfast this morning, and then a snack a couple of hours later. So when swimming lessons rolled around, I told him that he wouldn't be swimming because he was still a little sick. He was SO disappointed. He kept insisting, "My tummy all better. I can go swimming!" Instead the two of us sat in the bleachers and watched Riley's class. He pouted the entire half-hour.

He didn't show any interest in lunch, but I was able to convince him to drink some apple juice. After a long nap he still seemed a little lethargic, but was eager to pick out what he wanted to eat for dinner, leftover pasta and canned peaches. He surprised us by eating everything except the ground sausage in the pasta sauce. After refueling, he was back to his normal, happy self. I'm so glad I won't have to torture him at the pool again tomorrow.