So I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed Sunday night when Kates said she heard Phoebe cry. Kates was already in bed, so I was in the best position to check on Phoebe; I nearly blew it off and went to bed, but decided to check on Pheebs anyway.
In her bedroom, I immediately noticed a foul stench. Using the little light I had, I got closer to her bed and put my hand on her sheet; it was drenched. Then I looked closer ... Chunks. She'd thrown up. All over her pillow.
I raced upstairs to tell Kates. She bounced out of bed. The two of us sped to Phoebe's room. I flipped on the light. Kates hoisted a crying Phoebe from her bed and carried her to the bathtub. I was right behind pulling apart the sheets to rinse them and take them to the washing machine -- trying not to gag myself.
We finally went to bed at 12:30 a.m. Monday.
Today, Phoebe woke up on the proverbial wrong side of the bed. She's been crying and throwing tantrums nearly the entire time she's been in our presence, from the time she woke up to the time we got in the car to go to the daycare, and again tonight from the time Kates put her in the car at daycare to the point we put her to bed just now.
Good thing she's cute and cudddly and cheerful 98 percent of the time.
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