That is what passes for news around the house these days. In fact, the Posette making a Linda Blair impression (minus the head-spinning and general blasphemy) is the usual course of the day. I'm not saying she throws up a lot, but she's giving me flashbacks to college or even that one birthday party I don't like to talk about because I don't quite remember it. I hear I had a good time.
See, in a normal life, being sick is news. Not stop the presses news, and probably news you keep to yourself, but it does classify as a bit of an event. Now, it's the opposite for the Posette. We mark the days she isn't sick and call that the memorable day.
I, of course, blame the pickles.
Little Poseur right now is genetic Ipecac. At least we don't have to worry about the Posette being poisoned. Hey, that's me. Mr. Look-On-The-Bright-Side.
I know it's not LP's fault. (S)He can't help it, and besides, the LP has other things to worry about -- like growing a brain and internal organs and all that other cool stuff that we take for granted. There's just not a whole lot of real estate in the Posette, so it makes sense that the LP ends up pressing up against things.
Ever been really full? Like post-Thanksgiving full? Yeah, well that's just turkey and some pie. This is a whole other person who is busy, well, coming into being. LP's pretty darn bust thankyouverymuch and (s)he can't be paying attention to every little intestine (s)he rubs up against.
I appreciate Little Poseur taking a day off. I was beginning to think it was my cooking.
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