Vomitous blur
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We had a quiet day and hoped we were out of the woods until Nora threw up in the wee hours of Friday morning at 4:30 am. Three times. With a slight fever. Back to the drawing board.
She just awakened at around 3:30 on the sofa as Fiona and I were finishing up reading The Kite Fighters and asked brightly, "Did you make cupcakes?" I asked her if she had just had a pleasant dream revolving around the edible dainties, but wasn't able to get to the bottom of that before clearing up the fact that she was probably more ready for applesauce. She'd been successfully holding down water for hours by then. At that exact moment she blanched, and. . . you guessed it. No applesauce.
1 Comments:
Sorry about the stomach bug. A squeegee and dustpan are the best way to clean up the yuck.
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