Frozens?

Yesterday Ethan and I had the flu. The first time he barfed all over my chest, I thought, ok, I am his mom, I am staying calm and sweet and talking softly: "It's ok Ethan. Just let it all come out. It's ok." Then I'd strip his clothes off him, strip my clothes off me, and into the tub he'd go, and into the shower I'd go.
Three barfs down my chest, three showers, and three loads of laundry later I was still holding myself together for Ethan, but I was over it.
What made it even more surprising each time Ethan hurled was that I thought the flu was over. He'd act like he was really really hungry, and I thought, if he's so hungry, he must be better. Especially if he's chugging down milk like there is no tomorrow. He must feel better.
And then, BARF.
After the milk episode I wised up and said, NO MORE MILK.
Then he ate about a hundred pretzels, thirty or forty chips, watered down Sprite (which he refers to as "Coke") and three cups of frozen peas.
Ethan has this thing with frozen food; he loves frozen peas or soybeans or berries.
So yesterday he keeps asking me, "Frozens? More frozens?" His little voice has such desperation in it. Like I never feed him.
So I kept putting more frozen peas on his tray. I'd only put like twenty, thinking, he's not really going to eat all these. They are gross. But then sure enough, four minutes later the peas were all gone and Ethan is asking again, "More frozens? More frozens?"
I decided to try one, thinking maybe I was missing out on something. I mean, Ethan eats these little green things like they are Pez or something.
So I put one in my mouth with a lot of positive anticipation.
It was cold, and the ice crystals on it tasted old, and the pea itself tasted like dirt, a taste that only grew once the pea went done my throat.
I wondered if as his mother if it was ok for me to be feeding him such disgusting food.
But it didn't really matter because they all came up about twenty minutes later.