Wednesday night we puked a cumulative total of about 78 times and never missed the bucket. What an accomplishment!
I will share with you how there were children sleeping on my bedroom and bathroom floor. Each had a bucket and a towel that I had to try not to trip over on my way to the bathroom. I am sure it will eventually be funny to me, that Butter cheerfully asked a billion questions after every time she threw up, and if Pops even flinched she was shoving his bucket in his face screaming "don't miss the bucket Poppy!" I am pretty sure I lost 8 pounds. And ripped some of my nonexistent stomach muscles. I will spare you the rest of the details.
I hope we never, ever experience that again.