Scarlet Fever is in This Little House on the Prairie

Aitch had been running a fever off and on this past week, plus she complained of a sore throat. I chalked it up to a cold, what with the occasional wet cough and drippy nose that’s been incessant. I’ll admit I was just hoping she wasn’t going to throw up in the car seat (again!) or on the carpet (again!) or the couch (again!!).

She wanted to join her brother at the local Y for Family Swim Night, which was just an extended open swim from the after-school program. I went through the rushed steps of getting her undressed from her clothes and getting her into her swimsuit as quickly as possible so we could make the most out of what little time we had left. I was also distracted by the fact I had to get in the water with her and was no mood to be in a swimsuit without an opportunity to shave.

I slid into the cold water and turned my arms to reach for Aitch who stood at the pool’s ledge arms crooked to her body like a tiny t-rex and I pretended the water felt great. It didn’t. Normally she doesn’t hesitate to just jump in, but once her feet touched the water, she tensed up and would have climbed up and sat on my head if physically possible. I peeled her off me and sat her back on the ledge, annoyed. I had been in such a hurry that I had forgotten to have her go to the bathroom so she stood there, quaking with cold and doing her version of the “potty dance.” I climbed back out of the water, grabbed our towels and we trotted back into the locker room.

As she was sitting there, I noticed how red her hip looked. I lifted the top of her swimsuit and the rash ran all the way up her back. And even though she was shivering violently, she was hot to the touch. It was then she told me she wanted to go home. I knew it was time to take her to the urgent care.

The doctor diagnosed her with strep throat. I asked if he was going to swab her throat to confirm (I think “strep” is just code for “sore throat”, it’s not as common as most think), but he said that the scarletina was confirmation enough. I had never heard a rash described with that word before and didn’t think much of it. We were given a script for antibiotics and we went home. Of course I googled rash and strep throat when I got home and I was surprised to find out that “scarletina” is actually Scarlet Fever.

She has all of the symptoms:

• sore throat
• fever
• rash
• bright red tongue and throat
• headaches and body aches

I was expecting it to be just another unexplained rash like when she was a baby. Honestly, I didn’t even think Scarlet Fever was a thing nowadays. By the way, she’s feeling fine. Today both her and Doodicus BEGGED us to take them into town to go sledding down the dam’s hillside, which we did. The girl is a trooper. That’s all I can say.

Related articles

• Motherlode Blog: Scarlet Fever Probably Didn’t Blind Mary Ingalls (parenting.blogs.nytimes.com)
• Scarlet fever no big deal, VIHA says after worries posted on web (timescolonist.com)

RASH (no pictures this time) UPDATE

This is a follow-up to the post about my daughter’s rash since I’ve had many hits on it and queries as to how she is not doing:

It’s been what seems like an endless parade to and from a medical office of one kind or another lately. After waiting literally months for ZGirl’s dermatology appointment, it came and went and left me feeling a bit fuzzy in the brain – like I hadn’t ever been to a specialist before – and went away with more questions than answers.

Dr. Eyebrows, the junior of his now retired father who we originally saw last year, took one look at ZGirl and exclaimed how her condition and symptoms were exactly like his own son of the same age. I felt relief. He gave us a script for a cream, advised us to try an OTC antihistamine when things got bad, and swabbed her to see if she was a carrier of nasal staph.

Did you just go reread that last part?

Yeah. That’s where I got derailed at the appointment and failed as a parent to ask WTF. A couple weeks later I got a call from the clinic to confirm that she was positive. We’ll come back to that in a sec. At the time we were to start a nasal antibiotic right away.

For several days, we squirted an ointment up both nostrils of one very pissed off toddler. It would piss me off too.

After the treatment, her skin looked beautiful! I mean enviably gorgeous! And then a week later she was sick again with something viral (aka “cold”) and the rash and redness returned with a vengeance. Then the daycare told us that there were two confirmed cases of staph (I hadn’t told them about ZGirl’s appointment). And then the coughing and wheezing started. And then she threw up. And then the blizzard snowed us in and the in-laws out. And then Christmas came and went. And then this past Sunday Mr. DD bundled her up right away in the morning because she was getting worse and took her to the urgent care: ear and respiratory infection and the beginning of more antibiotics, this time the kind that taste like ass, even when flavored with grape, which resulted in a taste of ass covered in grape jelly.

And then finally, her follow-up appointment with Dr. Eyebrows. One I was determined to get to the bottom of with this staph infection carrier business. I spent free time googling “nasal staph infection carrier” needlessly. The nurse who called to confirm ZGirl was positive did not clarify that she was positive for another kind of bacteria – but NOT staph. Awesomeness.

Basically, ZGirl just has very sensitive baby skin and moisture followed by sudden dryness (like snot dripping and then subsequently being wiped away with a sleeve) will cause her extreme irritation. The prickly rash she gets on the rest of her body is her skin’s reaction to infections, which really does make sense when you consider the skin is the largest organ of the body. She should outgrow it eventually. Until then, if she gets really rashy about the face, we are to slather her with A&D ointment at bedtime. And that’s it.

If you are still seeking answers to your child’s unexplained rash, ask about getting a culture for staph done. Try A&D ointment, generously applied. Ask about steroid creams or try a mild over the counter cortisone cream. As for the body, moisturize, moisturize, moisturize. Aveeno for baby works great. Avoid highly perfumed lotions. If nothing else, vaseline after a bath. Good luck.

SKIN DEEP

As ZGirl’s pediatrician predicted, ZGirl’s rash on her body cleared up within a week as did the other symptoms of a viral infection.

Unfortunately, her facial rash, which he suggested was contact dermatitis, a catchall for “hey, we don’t know what kind of rash it is or what the root cause is” kind of rash, has – as you can see – only proceeded to get worse.

See how it’s even on her eyelids??

The picture captures one of the worst days. In the morning it looks less inflamed, but it’s definitely there. I try to put on a light coat of 1% hydrocortizone cream with a bit of vaseline over that, per doctor’s order. However, I haven’t seen any improvement whatsoever. I don’t know if it itches or burns as she doesn’t seem to scratch or rub at her face, except when she’s tired and she rubs her eyes, which is probably how it is getting transferred in the areas it is. At the onset of these symptoms, I did a little inventory of whatever I have changed. As I said in my first post about the rash, nothing has changed, except she’s on more regular foods and whole milk now.

We have her 15 month check up in a month. I’m not sure whether to ride it out until then or try to get an appointment with another dermatologist (which could take a 3-4 week wait anyway). I keep thinking tomorrow she’ll wake up and it’ll all be gone. And then I think it again the next day, and the next. It doesn’t seem emergent, but how long do we let this go on?

Thank goodness those gorgeous blues distract me.

(BTW, the picture immediately above was taken August 24th while the first one was taken September 14th)

NINE

It’s getting late and I’m crazy-ass tired and yet – I am compelled to post. Let’s keep it brief and get to the points I wish to cover, shall we?

1 – My MIL wasn’t able to get around very well this weekend, complaining of pain in her legs. Monday a.m. she was admitted to the hospital. She needs to have her hips that she had replaced 15 plus plus years ago replaced. Mr. DD has spent every evening at the hospital as now she’s been running an unexplained fever. Once she recovers from the fever, she then will spend the next couple of weeks in a nursing home until the scheduled date of her surgery since she can’t go home as the FIL is also recovering from a surgery from a couple months ago. Getting old sucks.

2 – XBoy has brought home work every day from school that he refuses to finish in school. This on top of the regular homework, which includes 20 spelling words, like “autumn” and “September”. Is this normal for 2nd Graders? In the three weeks he’s been in school, we’ve already had the note about pushing another kid as well as the initial note about XBoy’s belligerence in refusing to do his work. How many more weeks before school’s out?

3 – ZGirl received her one year vaccinations including the first half of the flu (regular flu) shot. Mr. DD and I spent that night alternating between holding and comforting an arched-back, screaming hysterically, and feverish baby. Remind me to tell you how the next morning I opened the door on her head. I’m sure it’ll be funny in a week or two.

4 – The next day I stayed home with ZGirl since she was still running a low-grade fever. I was in the middle of getting her lunch in the microwave, running a load of wash, running the dishwasher and we lost electricity in the house. A car accident somewhere down the line. I called and bitched to my husband since he has some sort of magical power to make it come back on again if I get screechy enough with him.

5 – AND THEN tonight Mr. DD announces that we have no propane. Even though our contract with the natural gas company is “keep full” (which means to come in every month and top of the tank). The company has done this not once, but twice before. Instead of calling them tonight and fight with them later over the emergency service charges, he will call and have them deliver during normal business hours. No hot water for a shower or the endless dishes or ZGirl’s or XBoy’s baths.

6- My own post requesting advice on how to get rid of violets garnered less response than a post I didn’t even write. I’m wounded.

7 – Mr. DD and I had a huge fight. Huge. It was about money. Or should I say the lack thereof? Not being able to find a new job is wreaking havoc on our marriage. Is that oversharing?

8 – We received news a couple weeks ago that one of Mr. DD’s nephews and his wife were expecting their first baby. This weekend we heard she miscarried. Now instead of sending the congratulatory card, I need to find a sympathy card.

9 – I’ve caught a cold.

Excuse the multiple updates if you get this through a reader. I blame life right now.

TASTES LIKE SUMMER

Mr. DD brought home sweet corn tonight. Even though it’s getting late in the season, many vendors around here plant in shifts about a week apart for several weeks so they don’t end up with one or two good weeks, but can sell corn for almost eight or more.

ZGirl has taken quite a fancy to it. It doesn’t even need to be cooked for her to enjoy. We can hand over an ear of corn freshly husked, and she’ll gnaw on that happily for some time. Of course, it’s much better (IMHO) cooked with a little butter and seasoning, but she doesn’t mind either way. She even stood up on the tippiest of her toes trying to grap the ears Mr. DD had just cleaned, and when she realized she just couldn’t quite reach them, threw herself into a tizzy.

 

(Gotta wash it all down…)

 

Viva la corn!!

Did you notice the Husker shirt? You didn’t?

NOW did you??

BABY JEAN, THAT’S MY GIRL

I embarrassed to admit that I am a sucker for baby girl’s clothes. The tights. The baby dresses with matching undies. The shoes. Oh, yes, the shoes! OK, so I’m actually not a sucker for BUYING the clothes, but I find myself weakening considerably when I walk past Baby Gap. And she only has three pairs of shoes.

It wasn’t that long ago that I found a pair of these jeans for ZGirl. Cute, right?

But jeans can be stiff and scratchy and hot and just…ugh! for the little goobers. Still, cute.

But these jeans aren’t really jeans. They’re stretchy leggings, boot cut. I love boot-cut. They make the diaper butt look smaller. True for adults as well.

I loved these “jeans” so much that I went back to the store and picked up sizes 24 mos (really? 24 mos? What’s wrong with 2T?) 3T and 4T.

The price for such an acquisition?

$16.

FOR ALL FOUR.

Here’s the secret: the store is unfortunately The Mecca for the Mental; A Bastion of the Bat Shit Crazy; The Interior Designs Supplier for the Double Wide.

WalMart.

Don’t judge.

Let me distract you from my brief lapse in sanity. Look! Cuteness that is my little Rocker Girl!  And yes, that is a drum stick in her hand. We start ’em young here. By the way? Shirt, courtesy of the Baby Boy’s department at Target.

IF I HAD TO HAVE PAID FOR THAT VISIT OUT OF POCKET, IT WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN WORTH THE $100 FEE. GOOD THING I HAVE INSURANCE, HUH?

Well, it’s not…

• Chicken Pox
• Fifths Disease
• Hand, Foot & Mouth
• Roseola
• Shingles
• Molluscum Contagiosum

But he does think it’s viral, especially since at the last visit a week ago to the pediatrician, the other guy said she had an ear infection (but I’m still rolling my eyes at that one) and the loose stools.

The rash on her face is most likely contact dermatitis, a.k.a.: Drool Face.

I know. The suspense was killing you. But now you know as much as I do about ZGirl’s rash, which really if you were to sit back in your chair and gaze up to your ceiling and contemplate, it wouldn’t be much at all.

So, uh, yeah. Carry on with your weekends, people.

RASH (with pictures)

 

 

So. Now what do you think?

RASH (’cause I can’t come up with a more clever title)

Did I mention here that ZGirl has another rash of some type or another?

After her week off from daycare while Mr. DD was in Boston, the Sunday before her return back to daycare (this is important), I noticed little tiny bumps under her chin, but lots of them. A couple were even on each of her cheeks, above her mouth, and on her sweet little eyelids. Her EYELIDS.

We took her to the see the pediatrician right away who diagnosed her with a teething rash. Try some hydrocortisone and vaseline, he said. Since he’s not ZGirl’s regular pediatrician, I was skeptical. He’s always been off on her past diagnoses.

The days passed and they got worse. As I described on facebook last night, she looks like a PMSing, 15 year old girl. She’s a wreck. A hot mess. Not only that, the rash has spread to her trunk, groin and upper back. Like a prickly heat rash.

The daycare noticed that when she first shows up in the morning, she doesn’t look bad. By the end of the day? See the “Hot Mess” comment above.

HOWEVER, I have to admit that I don’t think this is daycare related. Remember how I said they started showing up after her week off from daycare?

It was suggested that it might be a yeast rash, which it kind of looks like. Another suggested was hand, foot & mouth infection, which I don’t think it is because the sores don’t open and she eats well (no inside mouth sores) and no fevers.

I’d post pictures for you M.D.’s out there (or M.D.’s via Google), but I haven’t had much time to do more than eat supper when we all get home for the day. I’ll try to later as once we figure this out, it might be helpful for the next person.

I did get some new detergent, dye and perfume free, and rewashed the clothes and blankets she was going to use today. We’ll see what happens.

OOOH! I just had another thought: she on whole milk exclusively. Could that possibly be it? Regular formula and she drank whole milk in limited quantities before. Her colon has been on overdrive as well, going from one regular BM to now at least 4 to 5. Thoughts? Opinions??

BTW, in 30 minutes I’ll be at the dentist’s with XBoy. I’m going to find out if they can give him something other than (or in addition to) nitrous since I think we will go ahead and get those baby teeth pulled, but not today.

MY HEAD JUST EXPLODED

There are days that I get so angry and worked up, I can barely complete a simple task *.

I am angry that I have to consider a job opportunity 30 miles away. Maybe not a big deal to you city dwellers who are accustomed to a two hour commute one way, but this farm girl with a penchant for instant gratification will find the drive an equivalent of water boarding.

I am angry that the people yelping the most about the healthcare reform are those who HAVE healthcare. A (conservative) friend of mine said that the reform will just make those who don’t have insurance (because they are on Medicaid or don’t have a job) more likely NOT to get a job. It’ll “keep e’m lazy”, she said. Hey, that’s just awesome. Thanks for lumping me in with that group. So reward those who are on Medicaid by letting them KEEP Medicaid and let the few like me who don’t qualify for any healthcare without facing bankruptcy suffer for the many. Perfect answer.

I am angry that the people who proclaim their patriotism the loudest are the ones who love to throw around endearing terms like “King Hussein”. I get the whole “freedom of speech gives me carte blanche to spew my verbal diarrhea”, but don’t preach to me how you think this whole country is going in the shitter because of “King Hussein”. It’s going to the shitter because you’re an ignorant, fear-mongering, vitriol-filled, a-hole that does nothing but BITCH to anyone who will listen instead of educating yourself.

In addition to the previous paragraph, I’m angry about the endless and utterly ridiculous comparison of President Obama to Hitler. See both the Rude Pundit’s and Suz’s posts for a couple of succinct and eloquent summarizations.

I am angry that some ignorant woman believes she’ll carry her twelve fetuses to term and give birth to them NATURALLY and that she’ll get to hug them, and squeeze them and call them George, Jr., George III, George IV, etc., etc.. Actually, I’m sure that the healthcare in Tunisia is quite topnotch, especially since it must be an international hub, squeezed there between Algeria and Libya. Anyone else find it unbelievable that the expectant mother claims to be carrying six boys and six girls? I doubt that she’s even beyond 9 weeks, much less far enough along to make out the sex of each baby. I bet Suelman is pissed to be not just one-upped, but four-upped!

I am angry that while a certain Holy Roller Christian Blogger pleaded for forgiveness for stealing content from another More Famous Blogger under the guise of, “I just read her book and her words were so true!”, no one seems to have noticed that Holy Roller stole the words of another Not As Famous Blogger and since now Holy Roller is moderating her comments, her readers are faithfully continuing to follow her and stroking her poor, sweet, innocent head and telling her how wonderful and God-fearing she is and “of course we forgive you as you certainly meant no harm to More Famous Blogger who is siccing her evil minions upon you”… and I want to fucking choke someone. If she stole from two bloggers, she’s stolen from more and no one seems to care.

I am angry because I care that no one cares and that I shouldn’t care. It’s none of my damned business anyway, right?

I am angry that I’ve procrastinated until the very last evening before school starts to write my son’s name on 64 fucking crayons and sharpen 48 fothermucking pencils (oh, and yes, I have to get his name on them, too) and resist the temptation to just shave XBoy’s head bald tonight while he sleeps since there won’t be any time to get it cut according to the school’s policy before Wednesday morning! Not to mention that the yard hasn’t been mowed in three weeks and I am out of diapers. Well, *I’m* not out of diapers; ZGirl is.

* And dammit! Why the hell can’t I get two goddamned paperclips separated?! It’s not brain surgery!

…and so…

Just WHAT exactly are YOU angry about today?

A SLINKY SHE IS NOT

ZGirl fell down the stairs at my SIL’s house this weekend. In a moment of brilliant parenting, I let her toddle off to the living room while I sat in the kitchen. Of course I knew there were stairs, but didn’t think about it. I’m only guessing what happened since my nose was buried in a wine glass, but it would seem she decided to follow one of the older toddlers up the stairs. It wasn’t until I heard a bumpity-bump-WHUMP, followed by high-pitched screaming did I come running.

I found her on the third step from the bottom, in an open-mouthed-carp-out-of-water launch for the next unholy screech that was delivered in full red-zone audio directly into my ear canal as I snatched her up into my arms. The steamroller finally stopped backing over the cat, which was stuffed in a waterlogged set of bagpipes no less than 10 minutes later.

XBoy, who was sitting on the floor playing, said she fell all the way down from the top. I almost ripped him a new one since obviously he witnessed not only the fall but the ascent to where he knew she shouldn’t be, but hello? I’m the mom. I was the one who failed Parenting 101.

She’s fine but for the rug burn on top of her head.

I’ve been mentally flogging myself with a crap-filled diaper that’s been left in the 100 degree heat and humidity since then, all the while with each sloggy thump, I’m chanting, “stupid!, stupid!, stupid!”.

FREEZE TAG

The other night as I had given the house the equivalent of a whore-bath once over, I went in to check on the now sleeping kids. I shut off XBoy’s desk lamp and then headed to ZGirl’s room. I heard her as she restlessly rolled from side to side, but assumed she was still asleep.

When I peeked into her crib, I saw her big eyes staring up at me.

Shit!

I froze like a statue. Stupidly, I thought if I didn’t move she couldn’t see me in the dark. But babies are like bears. Their keen sense of smell can make out maternal exhaustion, which triggers their innate Play mechanism, even at 11:00 at night.

She lifted her head to get a better look at me and smiled this ridiculously cute smile at me.

Me? I’m standing there, halted in mid-step, still not moving.

“Really, ZGirl, it’s just a statue. Go back to sleep. You’re dreaming that mommy is standing by your crib.”

Mentally projecting those thoughts didn’t help. I’m not sure why.

I couldn’t stand there all night and had to make the decision to do or die. So finally I reached in and stroked her face and whispered good night and quietly left the room

I lucked out. She didn’t make a peep and went back to sleep.

Next time, I’ll just go to my  room and check the video monitor.

Or send Mr. DD into the bear’s den.

**********************

I sent out a Desperate for Friends request on facebook. If you got a request from a women wearing strange glasses too big for her face, and her first name starts with D and her last name starts with D, that’s me.

Also, if you have a facebook account, you can find me using my email address: ddattko (at) gmail (dot) com.

SHE MET HER MAKER

It can’t be All Gloom, All the Time here at the happiest place on earth, Punch Drunk World, so I’m going to share a very happy and momentous event that took place a few weeks ago.

I had to take ZGirl to see a dermatologist in The Metro. She had (and still is getting) these little “pimply” bumps on her skin, one at a time, in random locations, and I wasn’t able to get diagnosed by either a family practitioner or her pediatrician. I thought they might be mollescum, but they aren’t. The “specialist” said they are manifestations of ZGirl’s cold virus in her skin…What the hell??

That is all besides the point. I left early in the morning with the intention of getting to The Metro to visit my old RE’s clinic and introduce ZGirl. I had sent a birth announcement a year ago, but in all this time I had been unable to make it down there with her due to 1) their wonky hours of “earlier than hell”; and 2) my fear of traveling by myself with one cranky infant in the back.

Luck would have it that not only was I able to leave at the crack of dawn (get it?? the crack of DAWN???? hoo! – I slay me!) in order to make it there before the RE left for rounds, but I had both XBoy and my mother to help keep the high maintenance princess happy. ZGirl, in case you were wondering.

I will remind you that the RE who we started with, Murdock, left right in the middle of our donor egg cycle. Unfortunately, I was not aware of this until almost six weeks later when I came in for the ultrasound. For those who may have read through archives and kept seeing a reference to my pregnancy and “Murdock”, that was what we nicknamed the baby as ode to the doctor who got us to that point.

It was Doherty who was our RE once we became pregnant, and we are appreciative to her and the staff for what came across as genuine care and excitement.

When I carried ZGirl into the waiting room that morning, I was glad to see it was empty. The receptionist did a double take, recognizing me even though it had been nearly 18 months since my last appointment there. A couple of the nurses and the PA all came out to meet ZGirl and while I thought that I had missed the RE since it was later than I had hoped when I arrived, she was still in the clinic. She rounded the corner and also recognized me (or at least did a great job appearing as she did) and gushed over ZGirl.

This clinic, the most hated place on earth when any one of my nine treatments failed or were in the midst of failing (I mean, come one! This was where I heard Dr. Murdock tell me during my second ultrasound with Wolf, “This is not going to end the way we had hoped.”), is also the place I will be forever emotionally indebted to (even though I feel as if we would be forever financially indebted to as well) and can think of it with fonder thoughts.

Thank you, Dr. Murdock and Dr. Doherty, for believing it could be done when we had stopped believing in ourselves.

REJECTION

I arrive to pick up ZGirl from daycare. At the end of the day with just a hand-full of kids left, they are all together in the big room. I peek around the corner on the way past to get her bag and caught her eye. She doesn’t smile back. I continue on figuring once she notices I’m no longer at the door, she’ll come looking for me.

I gather her things and return to the doorway. One of the caregivers has picked her up and is standing there. ZGirl is still somber, quiet. I reach for her, but she doesn’t reach back. I gently peel her away from the woman holding her and just as I have her rested on my hip, she begins to cry and wail and reach out…

…for the caregiver.

I hand her back, smiling, wounded. ZGirl stops crying. We talk about her day. Everything’s been fine.

I reach out again thinking this time she’ll reach back. She doesn’t.

Again, I take her back into my arms and she cries and reaches forcefully away from me. I hand her back, not wanting her to be upset when we leave and watch as she not only stops crying but curls up in the arms of the caregiver and averts her face.

I still smile, hiding the hurt as I pretend to look at her journal entry for the day, blinking back tears.

LOVIES

On the way to do some school supplies shopping (SWEET MOTHER OF PEARL!!! SCHOOL STARTS IN LESS THAN A MONTH) I had a horrible thought cross my mind. ZGirl has developed a crush on a stuffed animal, a Ty plushie given to her as a gift. Of course, that’s not the horrible thought even though it is a whole lot of pink and purple rolled into one and IN THE FORM OF A UNICORN!

Yes, I’m shouting. Too much coffee.

The thing is, we only have one of them. I need to be like Serenity who wisely has three of her son’s lovies in her possession.

XBoy’s “lovies” ended up being all of the cloth diapers we bought to use as burp clothes. I’m sure at one time we had a couple dozen of them about, of which one by one they would disappear. I remember one being left intentionally on the shopping mall’s tile floor covering a puddle of slushie XBoy had dropped when he was probably around three because at three years old we have to carry our own goddamn drink and then spill the entire contents all over the damn floor where someone could easily slip and sue the mall management. I actually had one of the shop workers call maintenance but after waiting for five minutes with an inconsolable toddler, I decided that losing the burpie, which was much easier to see on the floor than a melting pile of banana slushie, was simply cutting my losses.

Today he still has a couple left: his Burpies. One that is is absolute favorite. Probably because it has gone through the washer and dryer so often that it is now as fine as tissue paper and almost sheer.

It took a couple dozen of those bad babies to make it seven years. With that revelation, I knew that one beanie baby wasn’t going to make it through ZGirl’s formidable years as a toddler. So the hunt is on for one retired stuffed animal. I’ve already found a couple and will be swooping in on ebay to get them when the time is nigh.

Why couldn’t she have developed a penchant for a roll of toilet paper or a plastic shopping bag? Those, I have plenty of.