So, being a fairly superstitious creature by nature, I am pretty sure I brought this whole afternoon onto myself. You see, last night, while I was working at the hospital, I was telling some one my stomach virus/Xmas story. I then promptly followed the story with "So, far, no one else has gotten sick." Yep, right there, I jinxed myself. And if that wasn't enough. I tempted fate that much more by making plans to meet a friend at our favorite Mexican restaurant tonight. I had just locked in a time to meet up with Tasha when Molly started telling me she didn't feel good.
Molly hadn't been herself all day yesterday, and she was still just a little "off" all day today. She just wanted to lay around and nap. This is not at all like my daughter. I sensed a disturbance in the Force when she was willing to sit still for more than 20 minutes. In fact, I told Mike earlier in the day that I thought she might be getting sick. He was curious what was wrong with our daughter last night. He called and asked "Who is this kid that looks like Molly, but clearly isn't Molly?" When I questioned further what he meant, he said "Well, she has been sweet all afternoon, snuggly, giving kisses, and laying on the floor most of the evening." Hmmm...something must be up. This does sound odd.
So, I was not surprised when Molly snuggled with me on the couch all day, and I was not complaining at all, due to the fact that I have what must be my third cold/cough of this very warm winter. I just kind of assumed she must have the same thing. She woke early from her nap, and came out to snuggle some more. She asked for chocolate milk. Why in the world I thought that was a good idea, I will never know. Perhaps because she had yet to mention that her tummy hurt like she did almost immediately after the milk.
I was getting her dressed for our Mexican dinner out. I had just put on her jeans and socks, and I could already taste the queso dip and margarita. Well, I could...until Molly spewed her chocolate milk all over me, the carpet, and apparently her brother. Fabulous...I grabbed a towel and some stain remover. In the mean time, Molly was saying "ewwww...No, no Abby." I returned to the living room to find the dog attempting to "clean" the spot on the carpet. Uggghhhh...I stripped, stripped Molly, and cleaned the carpet. Time to run the washer for the third time today. Clothes and towels in the wash, Mommy changed, Molly sitting peacefully naked on the couch. I sent a quick text to my friend that dinner was off, and started to make dinner for the rest of the family.
As I stand at the stove, Molly comes in and asks "Whatcha cookin Mommy??" I tell her that I am making spaghetti. She replies, "Oh wow Mommy. My favorite. Can I have some?" My reply..."Yeah...no...maybe some crackers sweet girl." I can not handle spaghetti and chocolate milk vomit in the same day. Next thing I know, Colin comes over and announces...
Colin "I have Molly's throw up on my pants and socks..."
Me "Well, just take them off little dude. Sorry, you must have been hit in the crossfire."
Colin (looking down at his sticky sock) "Yeah...no...Mommy, You take them off. I don't want to."
Who can blame the guy?? Strangely enough, Molly seems just fine now. No fever, no further vomiting, and she wants to eat. I am grateful, but curious all the same. Oh no...I am going to go knock on some wood. Why did I say that she was feeling better out loud?? I may as well have said "quiet" or "slow" at the hospital. Damn all these superstitions...
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