The call came at 1:20 PM.  My 7-year-old son Ben was sick and would need to come home from school.  My plans for a productive afternoon were shot.  It was shaping up to be a bad day.

A few hours later, I picked up Ben’s older brother Sam from school.  He quickly rattled off the day’s events, which were punctuated with the news that his friend James got really sick.  Sam continued with the details, “James kept throwing up and I even had to hold the trash can under him, as he threw up all the way to the office.”

Correction, I did not have such a bad day.  My son Ben, who got sick and was sent home from school, had a bad day.  My son Sam’s friend James, who could not stop throwing up, had a bad day.  The winner however was Sam.  Anyone who is left holding the traveling trash can of another’s vomit had the worst day.  No contest.