Do you remember me complaining last month about Jason always getting sick at the most inconvenient times? Well, that illustrious tradition continues.

I had great plans for Jason’s birthday. I’d work half a day while he slept in and relaxed and then we’d catch the new Potter film and go out for a fancy dinner. Sounds nice, right? I thought so too.

Unfortunately, the night before Jason’s big day his tummy started hurting and then, less than an hour after we had gone to sleep, I awoke to him wandering out of our bedroom in a hurry. Somewhere in the recesses of my consciousness I concluded that his stomach issues were probably causing an emergency potty run and then I quickly drifted back to sleep…until I was roused again by a disquieting thud. This unnatural clatter was very loud but I thought it must be a product of my sleepiness since I couldn’t imagine what would cause such a ruckus. It turned out that the clamor was no slumber-induced figment yet a “what” didn’t cause it but a “who” rather.

Jason had hurried into the bathroom to upchuck and, after doing so, had felt a surge of heat run through him and then all had gone black. He had passed out and hit the tiled bathroom floor hard giving himself some cuts and a monster of a headache. Happy birthday Jason!

Worrying about Jason and all the implications his sickness would mean for his birthday plans kept me up until 5:30 that morning. An hour and a half of sleep is a catnap not a restful slumber. Not a good night for either of the Sabins.

Luckily, Jason’s illness vanished almost as quickly as it had struck. By the time I dragged myself out the door for work the next morning he was already feeling well enough to eat the sweet rolls I had bought him for his birthday breakfast. Yeah! So we still got to see Harry Potter that afternoon as planned (armed with a barf baggie that thankfully we didn’t need to use). We decided to delay going out for an elegant birthday dinner that night though. Jason wasn’t too hip on the possibility of his nice meal boomeranging back up his esophagus, and truthfully I wasn’t terribly stoked about that idea either, so we just got Café Rio takeout and took it easy at home. It wasn’t exactly how I had envisioned his birthday ending but at least it didn’t conclude with more barfing escapades.

The next day I had a party in the park planned for Jason and, since his fluids were once again all properly contained, he was ready to socialize. I bought pizza from Malawi’s for everyone and my friend Robyn made a surprise Hulk cake. She did an amazing job! I totally threw Jason off the scent with a decoy cake so he was completely shocked by his superhero. I am so clever!

His party mostly consisted of the adults eating and chatting at the park’s gazebo while their kids enjoyed the playground. Of course we also brought it on with our customary volleyball tournament. My side won-no thanks to me. At one point my buddy Cameron told me that it would be better for our team if I just didn’t even try to hit the ball. I should have reminded him that whether I tried or didn’t try the outcome would be the same; either way I wouldn’t be making contact with that airborne orb.

Even though Jason’s birthday started out with a thud at least it didn’t end like a dud. Most of my plans worked out and, although it still hurts Jason to chew, his face deflated after about 24 hours and didn’t bruise too much. Good thing because I think when people say that birthdays are scarring they don’t mean it literally.