Genny's been an intolerable pain in the butt all day -- kind of like she is when she's got an ear infection.

I've been >THIS< close to wringing her neck a few times.

So we head up to town to pick up a few things and she pukes three times over a 40 foot area of parking lot at Home Depot.

I happened to have a change of clothes in the car for her of stuff she's mostly grown out of, so we hid her behind my sarong and the front car door and Mike's butt, and changed her barfy clothes. Then Mike takes her to the bathroom, so the two of them can get cleaned up in the restroom. (I'd already gotten into the store when Russell came running breathlessly down an aisle yelling for me.)

I buy a bucket and the box of stuff I had planned to buy and we head home. Daddy sat in the back with her. If you have been keeping up here, you know that 1) I don't do barf and 2) I've been barfing all week and the meds I'm taking make me somewhat barfy to begin with, and 3) I get car sick easily. Mike of Iron Stomach fame sat in the back with my pitcher from the hospital, which we had kept in the car for just such an occasion for me earlier in the week.

I was sad that Genny indeed needed it on the way home. We didn't think we could actually make the 5 gallon bucket from Home Depot fit or work for her, but were pretty sure the hospital pitcher would work well. The pediatrician said that if she doesn't stop puking tonight, to take her to the emergency room.

I think when I was about 8, I puked into my Dad's hands in an elevator on Father's Day in Hawaii on a family vacation. I've never lived that down. I hope we don't have one of those kinds of father's days for Mike.

Yeah, yeah, circle of life.