Well, yesterday was Joshua's 8th birthday. He had his choice of anything for dinner and after we convinced him that dry cereal wasn't really a good choice he opted for pizza. So we had pizza and cake. He opened his presents (his favorite being the pack of batteries we bought him for the wii remotes) and spent the rest of the evening playing new wii games. By the way, I rock at Tiger Woods Golf (Joshua not so much - but he did get a couple of birdies). All in all, he was quite happy with his birthday.
He finished the day staying up late and playing. We he finally went to bed he said that his tummy wasn't feeling well. We assumed it was a combination of pizza, cake, excitement, and exhaustion. At 1:30 in the morning he woke us up to say that he threw up. Indeed he had thrown up in bed. It was in his bed, on the side of the bed, in the drawer that was left open that is on the side of his bed, on the clothes in said drawer, on the floor, on the wall, on the lightswitch, and on him. It was a glorious way to begin his ninth year of living.
