Funny sick Pooka

Long day today...long story.

We went out to dinner after I met the kids and Gary at his dentist after his appointment.  By the time we got home all I wanted to do was sleep but there was Pooka's homework to do that's due tomorrow.  And then there was mail, laundry, messy room, messy living room, messy house.

So after the homework, the kids went to bed.  So I'm off alone to do the rest of the cleaning up and the laundry (still going).  Work, but it was still quiet, peaceful bliss.

Until I hear Pooka crying in their room.  Turns out she's feeling worse and has a bit of a fever.  That cold has become a dam up her nose and just keeps on leaking.  I get her up into the bathroom and as soon as she sees me going for the medicine cabinet, she starts howling.  Great, here we go.  I have to play barking sergeant again...just my thing.

So she's crying, stomping around, adamant that she does NOT want to take the medicine.  I'm feeling a little sympathetic so I scrounge around in the fridge looking for some "sweet" drink, any kind of drink to down that damn medicine she does not want to take.  I find nothing. There's water, bitter tea, and soy milk.  I start going through the cabinets and I find Gary's Gatorade powder and Tang.  I went for the Tang but I don't know how old that big tin was but all I can get at is hard, cakey, orange gunk.  Yuk.

So I go for the hard candy Megan brought home the other day.  I tell her she eat the candy as soon as she's downed the medicine with water.  Hah!

Anyway, after much yelling and crying, she took that medicine in 3 gulps.  T-H-R-E-E.  And then more whining and crying and I'm gonna pull my hair out I swear to god.   She calmed down after a bit though and asked for more water. 

She trails after me into the kitchen and next thing I know, she threw up everything onto the linoleum floor with a big wet splat.  I kinda stood there for a moment, not moving, not believing that that was all for nothing.

But life goes on.  I handed her a papertowel to wipe her face and pointed her towards the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth.  Then I get on to cleaning the mess I guess I'd started.

She felt alot better when she came out of the bathroom and walks up to me and asks innocently, "Mama?  Can I lie down on the couch and watch Lion King while you clean my throw-up?"

Sure thing, Pooka, sure thing...