Everybody Barfs on Baba

On Wednesday Wynn came home from daycare with a 102.6 degree temperature and a belly full of quesadilla, which she threw up on her DVD player, the table, the floor, her placemat, her shirt, and herself.  (That's right.  My daughter was watching a DVD while eating her dinner, thus guaranteeing me a lock on the mother of the year award.)

Not to be outdone, Ranger threw up twice Thursday morning - once in Wynn's room and once on the new carpet in the living room (gasp!).  When I came into Wynn's room to clean it up, Ranger was pouting, and Wynn was standing next to him, looking sympathetic and petting him gently.  

Today, they both decided to up the ante.  Ranger went first.  This afternoon he came in from his walk and started doing the "pre-game show" he puts on before throwing up.  Scott's pretty tough about vomit, so he put his hands under the dog's mouth and caught it.  Ugh.  

Wynn is feeling MUCH better - even managed a brief visit to the State Fair this morning, but she was overtired at bedtime and went into one of her crying rages.  As usually happens, she got herself so wound up that she barfed - all over Baba.  I could hear him from the living room, "I'm in a pool of it.  I don't even know where to start."

When I came in to offer assistance, Scott said, "Why don't you just throw up on me now, too?  Might as well be the whole family at this point."  

Thursday night I asked Wynn about our plan to go to the fair:

"Will we eat food at the fair?"

"Yep."

"What kind of food?"

"Mmmm..."

"Will we eat hot dogs?"

"No."

"Fruit?"

"No."

"Ice cream?"

"No."

"Then what WILL we eat?"

"Donuts."

"Is that all we're going to eat?"

"Yep."

Yes, that's an inflatable Dora.

Yes, it cost more than it needed to.

And, yes, she loves the darn thing.