It's official. Husband has the lurgy. We have named it Swallowed Alien Syndrome on the basis that your stomach doesn't so much hurt as feel like you have eaten an alien lifeform which has happily taken up residence in your abdomen. Not one of those John Hurt, bursting-out-of-your-belly aliens, it's not that painful. More like an alien that has moved in and invited its alien pals over for port and cigars. In other words, there is something in there that isn't quite right, it's not pleasant and occasionally quite deeply uncomfortable. Oh, and it doesn't like many kinds of human food, and if you try to send in anything it disapproves of, it will be rejected and sent back, pronto. Experiments have shown that milk and bananas are on the no-no list. Soup, on the other hand, it seems to quite like.
So here we are, waiting for the alien visitor to get tired of this family and move on. It's SB's 9th birthday tomorrow and I am not sure if it likes cake.