When Sharing Is Not a Good Thing.

We spend an awful lot of time teaching our 3 1/2 year old, Ryan, to share. Come to think of it, we still spend a fair amount of time teaching our 6 year old, Caitlin to share as well. But over the Thanksgiving weekend, sharing backfired in my face. Thanksgiving Day I was feeling extremely joyous over surviving the Atlanta Half Marathon without my 37 year old body collapsing on me. At noon-time I was sitting with some of my running buddies soaking in the hot-tub and enjoying life. Little did I know, in 24 hours the whole weekend would be falling apart. Partly out of guilt (standard state of mind for me, even if I am a lapsed Catholic) and partly out of sympathy, we were hosting my Irish friend & her family (complete with grandparents in town from Dublin) for a dinner party Saturday night. How could I not? If the sheer fact that she had hosted my family at her Thanksgiving dinner, allowing me to lounge around post-race day in leisure, wasn't enough prompt a return invite, then the fact that her parents were camped out at her house for two entire weeks and were in dire need of activities was enough to clinch the deal. And if you are getting the giggles about now, then you are having the same thoughts as me; there was great irony in a Thanksgiving dinner being cooked by a born and bred Dublin, Ireland hostess. And she was making a turkey recipe from Everyday Italian to boot!

Little did I know, as I happily prepped for dinner, trouble was brewing and multiplying. I was focused. I was chopping. I was sauteing. I was pulling out all the stops with a Julia Child recipe for cannelloni. I handmade crepes, I simmered the red sauce, coddled the white sauce, and seasoned the filling. And oh yeah, I made a roasted banana cheesecake. With a quick kiss on Ryan's head, I watched my husband carry him off for his nap. Finally it was assembly time. As I carefully laid a cannelloni into the baking dish, I sensed a presence behind me. And a rather unpleasant smell. With great trepidation I slowly turned around to the vision of an unhappy little boy covered in puke. "Oh Lovey, let's go get you cleaned off." And off we headed to the bathroom for the detoxification process. I cringed as I passed Ryan's bedroom, it was clear he had efficiently contaminated every piece of bed linen, the walls, and siderails of his bed.

Luckily the stomach bag quickly passed, although the dinner party was obviously cancelled, leaving me sad. Not only had I gone to great lengths to cook a company worthy meal that would go to waste, I had ironed napkins for our guests as well. And you can believe me when I say that is an uncommon occurrence!

As children usually do, Ryan quickly bounced back and things returned back to normal. Unfortunately it soon became apparent something was multiplying in my own stomach. So much for teaching your children about the joys of sharing!