My Fellow Inebriates,
Yesterday Miss P one-upped Miss V’s suspected bladder infection by upchucking in the school playground. Although she seemed okay by the time my mum collected her from the sick room, she soon resumed vomiting, continuing until 2:00 a.m.
If you’ve ever seen ET the Extraterrestrial you may remember that scene where ET hides in the closet among the stuffies. That was me yesterday, people. I like the kids, but when one of them is hurling stomach acid and the other is blasting room-filling farts, you don’t want to be the chosen Comfort Animal.
Miss V did produce a urine sample this morning, so my mum took both kids to the doctor to see what nasty microbes it contains.
But they didn’t come back.
I waited all day. They didn’t come.
Then at 6:00 p.m. my dad rushed in and rushed out.
And nobody came back.
I started thinking it might be okay to be the Comfort Animal. I missed them.
And then this came:
. . .
7 thoughts on “To be or not to be the Comfort Animal…”
Oh no! Let’s just hope you don’t contract anything or get barfed upon! Love to the kiddos!
Thanks! They seem to be well, and the prescriptions aren’t too yucky. They even angled their way to some ice cream today. No barf, thankfully!
How are you doing? Can’t wait for the next installment 🙂
Nice! Hope you got some too and possibly made a milkshake with Kahlua.
I am OK…baby is doing better sleeping every day (knock on wood). Can’t wait to really start blogging again soon. I don’t count the birth story bc it basically wrote itself. I am trying to resist the urge to start participating in linkups and writing prompts.
What’s a writing prompt? Are linkups those things where moms meet somewhere in your city if they happen to live close together?
Glad baby C is sleeping well. Those naps are so necessary to parental health.
How is Froggert doing? I’ve been worried about him.
I don’t think any of those sound like anthroponotic diseases, so you should be safe as a comfort animal, LB. Hope the kids are OK.
I can’t find that word in my dictionary, dude, what does it mean?
Why do kids’ ailments always involve so many bodily fluids?
Ahhh, good old Wikipedia defines it. I just don’t want to get vomited on. I’m afraid of the washing machine.