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I returned the trash can that spent the last two days resting at my bedside to the computer room this morning. Having the ability to move it, complete with its plastic covering, was a bit of a victory. It implied that at least I was done with the illness that rampaged my family this weekend. That’s a pretty good feeling, almost as good as again being able to fart with at least some semblance of control.

I’m of the opinion that you learn about real parenting when attempting to do it while sick. It’s almost a right of passage. Throw in a sick wife as well as two sick children and the multiplication alone is staggering. It all adds up to a weekend conclusion that was surely drawn up somewhere in hell.

I suppose I could say that it all started Friday night, when my oldest child found that he didn’t like sleeping next to the contents of his stomach, but I didn’t feel it until Sunday evening. The wife and I looked at each over our dinners. Neither of us had much interest in what was on our plates. My wife is a good cook; my belly can assure you that this was a bad sign. We forced our way through bath time and both of us hit the bed with thud at about 8 pm, just minutes after we got the kids asleep.

We also hit the bed at 9pm, 10pm, 11pm, 12am, 1am, 2 am — I think you are getting the idea. Our youngest had taken to projectile vomiting and was, unsurprisingly, unhappy about it. He woke nearly every hour throughout the night, emitting a chorus that was filled with his meals from the day before. I took each opportunity to revisit the bathroom. By morning, there were two weary parents and a child with nothing left to vomit but clear liquids.

At this point, I should mention that there’s nothing sadder than a sick kid. My youngest had no understanding of what was happening to him. He was incredibly tired and suddenly wet. My oldest, who took up the tradition the next day, made us just as sad. He wanted us to provide the magic elixir from the doctor that would make it all better. It just breaks your heart.

I should also mention that I couldn’t be more impressed with my wife through all this. She spent the better part of the first night hanging over the toilet and still managed to hit the ground running when our youngest one woke. By the morning hours she’d get to him before he actually threw up. At this point, I was still moaning under the covers.

Monday was a day of survival in a way. Both the wife and I were still quite ill, not even attempting something like soup until the late evening. The kids needed their parents and their parents needed rest. Occasionally, one parent would fall (asleep). The other would do what needed to be done. The day itself is a blur. I remember cleaning up the dishes and laying on the couch moaning softly to myself from the effort.

Thankfully, today is better. Our oldest is still very much recovering (he was the latest in the time line for the real whammy) but the wife and I feel a lot better. I had a bagel for breakfast! The exclamation point alone should indicate that our victories come in small, meal-shaped packages. The movement of that trash can indicates some independence on exactly where those meals end up.

Reasons 1 – 342 that I didn’t become a doctor, besides all that homework I would have faced. I’d pick a favorite but I need to stop cringing first.

My birthday is coming up, eventually, and I thought I’d get a jump on my wants and needs (ok, my wants). Besides, I love lists. Just love them. Here are some of the books I’d like to read sometime after my birthday, ahem, assuming I ever finish this one. Thank God the others won’t require a quiz afterwards.

I’ve been a reader of Gregg Easterbrook’s Tuesday Morning Quarterback column for a few seasons. I like his writing enough that I’ve followed that particular column from ESPN to its current resting spot, NFL.com. It’s good, exhaustive, quirky stuff and it sets him up well for writing about subjects like is life getting any better. Doesn’t it?

Since the life questions are apparently easy, I’m glad this book gave Mr. Easterbrook a chance to tackle some tough subjects, like religion. You’d think that I’d be wary to read a book about religion from a football columnist. You’d be wrong. After all, what football columnist berates supporters of intelligent design while leaving the concept open, all in an article about the Super Bowl? Well, I know one that does.

(Search for “No Higher Power” for the whole snippet. Here’s a taste: “But please, science illiterates, stop attempting to enact rules about intelligent design; you are ruining the idea.”)

I’ve already read this one, which probably makes it my most interesting choice. Of course, when I did so, it was in electronic form. It’d be nice to get the paper equivalent and it’d be nice to freshen my memory for it’s sequel.

Hey, the sequel. Imagine that. In addition to being a sequel to a book that I really enjoyed, I think this choice makes a pattern apparent. Maybe I’ll talk about that pattern at the bottom. Hint, all the links to Amazon are not involved.

I’ve been following the Penny Arcade strip for years, long enough that I’m sure I’ve seen a lot of work found between the covers of this book. That doesn’t mean I don’t need something for my (theoretical) coffee table and that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy reading all the additional commentary.

So what do all these choices have in common? They all came from writers that I discovered and followed on the web. In the case of Mr. Easterbrook, I’ve been following his articles in official channels for a couple of years. In the case of Mr. Scalzi, I’ve been following his blog for longer than I’ve been writing my own. Penny Arcade is actually kind of a mix of the two, a site that generates money directly but provides blog-like content in the form of long form text that accompanies each comic.

10 years ago, I would have been surprised at the source of my interests. As recently as 7 years ago, I might have been little uneasy justifying actual purchases based on such unscrupulous places as the internet. Today, I don’t bat an eye. The authors above are writers that I actively follow. I can’t think of a better way to spend my entertainment dollars (or someone else’s if my birthday just so happens to pass). I can think of a better question, though.

How did I find something good to read before the internet?