The Throw-up Bucket

The throw-up bucket at our house has been well-used in the past couple of weeks. That dreaded feeling all started early last week when I heard that awful sound in the middle of the night when you just know your child has covered all the blankets, sheets, and sometimes walls with the throw-up. In Tate's case, he just happened to throw-up on the one night that he actually ate a good dinner, and Allen just also happened to be out of town. No sooner had I cleaned up the first round of pizza chunks, when the second round came. Because I only had one set of hands, I threw all of the soiled laundry into the tub to be rinsed out at a later time. I changed Tate and held him until he fell asleep. Then I rinsed out the blankets and pajamas, left them in the tub and crashed for the last few hours of sleep for the night. He felt much better in the morning, but I still had to face the mess of laundry in the tub. I also knew that my chances were great that the other kids would get the bug as well. We were fine for a few days, and then I heard the sound again, this time it was Porter. Thankfully, he is my best thrower-upper. He always makes it in the bucket and then just moves on with life. So he was easy. Then it was passed to Hannah, who is not easy. She moans and whimpers and then screams when it's coming. She should be the easiest by now, but is the worst, by far. To make a long story short, the throws-ups seem to have thankfully left our house and I can finally catch up on my laundry. I'm still wondering though, why does all of this happen in the middle of the night? No one ever throws up in the middle of the day. Why is that?