Right now, I'm on call to go to the twins. Their mom texted me this morning: "Last night before bed, Patrick said he had to throw up. It continued until 7am. Was supposed to fly out today but that didn't happen. When they get up we can see how they're doing. If he's okay may go into office; if not may have you take Lilly out." (Okay, so it was four texts.)
I always loved those days in college when I'd tramp across campus to see a sign on the door, "ENGL 471 canceled today." Part of me was annoyed that I'd already walked all that way, but most of me was super glad at the unexpected reprieve. Now, though, I feel bad. My only surprise time off comes at the expense of the kids' mom's job, sleep, and sanity. On the upside, I'm really productive during unanticipated free time: see, dishes done, see, sweeping happening after this post. But I still feel guilty.
And, unless Lilly wakes up feeling terrible, I'm still going over there. Just not sure if I'll have one or two kids. And hoping per usual that I don't end up hurling my guts out later in the week.