A pestilence has befallen our household. Just yesterday, it prompted four clothing changes for ZGirl and three for me. Somewhere in between the changes, she had two baths.
At her six month “well” baby appointment, it was determined without fanfare that she had a double-ear infection. It was as if the diagnosis was permission for her to let go of any good humor she may have been holding onto and let the illness consume her mood 110%. A coughing fit begets throwing up; a bottle (unenthusiastically consumed) begets gravity defying craps.
She spent more times in my arms yesterday than she has since was a newborn, which is all well and good since ANTM Season 11 ran back to back, getting me as caught up as I’ll ever be.
With bodily fluids leaking from every orifice on ZGirl’s body and my slow decline into my own personal Blue Period, my follow up post regarding the pharmacist vs. physician may be delayed indefinitely. If you don’t hear from me in a while, you can either assume some one is either still sick or I have died, in which case I’m glad we do not have a cat which would probably eat half my face before meandering away in boredom to shit in my shoes.