I think we're dealing with a stomach bug, here.
Of course, on top of 2 months of my feeling like a truck managed to yank out my intestines, run over them a few times, and shove them back in, I'm a little concerned. Is it a bug? Is it something they ate as in food poisoning? Is it something they ate as in allergy? Is it something else? Maybe it's just stress? (I'll stress myself into an attack if I keep this up.) At least it means the floors and laundry are being forcibly kept up with.
Luckily Penguin seems to be doing better. But Bumblebee isn't feeling so hot today. And she was supposed to go to a very important birthday party.
She tells me it isn't fair. I agree.
She wants to know why she always gets sick. I tell her she's my healthy one.
She says she's never going to tell me when she throws up again. I say that's fine, except that she still probably wouldn't have fun at the party.
She thinks they shouldn't have planned it for today. "Didn't they KNOW I'd be sick?"
Sorry hon. We just aren't psychic.
She feels bleh. She's not hungry. And when she does eat, she feels bleh some more.
I tell her there are good things about being sick. Getting snuggles. (She gets those anyways.) Lazing around the house. (We do that when Penguin has a migraine. Duh.) You can watch as much TV as you want. (She doesn't want to.) Er, you can play Peggle, or WII. (She doesn't want to.) Board games? (No, that's not a party.) And you can have as many popsicles as you want. (Really? Really, really?)
For a moment, I think I've struck the silver lining. Her face shines. She's happy. I start to get up and go about my business. A little arm stops me.
Her face is grouchy again.
"That's not fun," I'm informed.
"It means I'm sick!!!"
Oh, right. Sorry!