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February 24, 2005

Barf, Barf, Barf.

Got the call a little while ago from Mrs. Dawn's Spa for the Small & Troublesome: Vomiting.

Not just vomiting but projectile vomiting.


Both of us mobilized but I beat Fabulous Babe to the Spa. When I got there Jack was seated on the changing table screaming bloody murder wearing nothing but a diaper. He had managed to exhaust his supply of clothes, both the ones he wore and the spares Mrs. Dawn keeps on hand. He was as pale as a sheet and very obviously didn't feel good. Fabulous Babe arrived as I was calling the doctor for an appointment.

We got Snickle Britches home and within minutes he barfed again. Jack doesn't have a fever so we're not sure what the root cause is.

Doctor Molotov is out this week so we're going to go meet with Doctor September at 5:45. Right now we're hanging out in the living room waiting to head out. Jack is laying on the floor and smiling so hopefully he's feeling better.

Update when we get back.

Posted by Jim at February 24, 2005 04:51 PM


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