The day started off pretty well. But the last time I remember thinking things were good was about 7:36am.
TubaDad had to be at work at the crack of dawn and was gone before any of us woke up. So around 7ish I got the girls up, dressed, and downstairs where we all sat on the playroom floor. Then without warning Ree puked all over herself, me, Ro, and every toy within sight. I think I lovingly yelled "What the hell, kid?!!" as I vaulted to a standing position in my now-putrid clothes and attempted to flee. Yes I was that sweet and caring. Poor girl. After the initial shock I came to my senses, comforted her and her hideously-dripping sister who was now screaming in outrage, and herded everyone into the shower. Ah well.
The group shower went well, as did the subsequent doctor's visit to confirm this was nothing more than your garden-variety stomach flu. I've lost count of how many hours I've spent in the bathroom with the girls' today, and poor little Ree clutched her faithful bucket for the rest of the day. Little sweetheart.
TubaDad is giving the girls a much-needed bath right now. To be honest, I called him around 6 tonight and lost it when I found out he wasn't going to be home for another half hour. When he finally got here I wearily sank into the couch and don't know if I'll ever get up. I'm sorry to keep talking about sick, I promise I won't say another word about it. The next post will be the fun pictures from the Fourth of July party and parade. 'Night everyone...