Lulu's sick - throw up sick. Poor girl has skipped dinner the past two nights and she asked to go to bed last night at 5:30.
But, come the mornings, she feels slightly better.
Yesterday, she followed me into my bedroom when I went to get dressed.
"Mama! Since there are no boys around, we can have 'Girl Talk!'"
"Yes. We can! What would you like to talk about?"
"Ummm." And, then she left the room.
About ten minutes later (I have to believe it was just because there wasn't anything good on the television), she came back.
"Mama! You got dressed without me!"
"I'm sorry! Did you want to help me pick out what to wear?"
"Yes." [Evidently "Girl Talk" = "me telling you what to wear."]
"Oh. I'm sorry. But, is this okay, what I chose?"
At least she was willing to compromise from the short-sleeve cotton shirtdress that was her first choice - seeing as how it was 40° yesterday. She really did make me take off the boots, tights and sweater dress that I was already wearing. Although, she did thoughtfully tell me, "You can keep your underwear on."
Well. Thanks for leaving me that little piece of dignity.
But, I'm am proud to tell you, this girl is a champion barfer. She'll run herself to the bathroom (or grab her bowl), throw up, rinse her mouth and go back to the couch to lie down. The most she'll ask for is someone to "hold [her] hair."
Why do I think this is giving us a terrifying glimpse into her college years? I never really thought that I would be bragging on my daughter's ability to "puke and rally."
Shawn is out of town [I think I'll save him some barf, though, so he can have the full parenting experience]. I had book club last night. Don't worry. There is no part of my maternal instinct that considered missing my night out because I had a sick child. But, I did start to question whether I was a good mother when I left the babysitter with the words, "If she throws up, I promise I'll pay you extra!" But, I felt confident that Lulu was in capable hands when the babysitter responded with, "Don't worry. I'm sure little kid barf is way less gross than drunk college girl barf." And, I told her that, just like a drunk college girl, Lulu would really just need someone to hold her hair.
*clink clink* (That therapy fund is just growing and growing.)