This announced itself Wednesday night when, after a lovely day, a good bath, and a relaxing evening at home, she threw up all over herself and the changing table.
The look on her face made me realize again that she's experiencing everything for the first time. (She has thrown up before, but not in a long time--so it's like the first time). This was a look of befuddled dismay--a look that said "What the hell just happened and is it likely to happen again?"
There followed a restless night and another look of dismay and befuddlement in the morning when she deposited a small puddle of rancid curds in front of the refrigerator at 8:55 in the morning.
"Uh-oh!" she said, bending over and pointing to make sure I couldn't miss it. "Uh-oh! Uh-oh!"
At 9:02, when the clinic opened, I called for an appointment.
Things were going well, things were going fine. Then we turned the last corner into the clinic parking lot, which involved going over a rough patch of road, a bump and a dip.
Sophie puked, and wailed in exasperated dismay.
Then we went inside and got the news about the gastrointestinal virus, and keeping her hydrated and comfortable.
(But since then, there has been no further vomit. Twenty-four hours and counting now. So we think it's over with already).
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