I know I've been fortunate to have gotten in 3 and a half years of parenting before having this experience. BUT...
Last night we tried a neighborhood pizza place for dinner. Brian and Katy had pepperoni. David and I did not. The pepperoni was intense, even just looking at it. All evening Brian was complaining that his stomach hurt.
And then at 2 in the morning, Katy cried out to me and I went in expecting the usual bad dream complaint. But I walked into the nastiest mess I've ever encountered, and Katy was saying, "My face!" She was so confused as to what had just happened. And it was bad. All over the wall, the comforter, the floor, down her pajamas and in her hair. And worst of all: Blankie. It took Brian and I together an hour and a half to get it cleaned up. *shudder*
Finally she settled back down, and she hasn't done it again since. Today she's acting pretty normal, not eating a whole lot, but she says her stomach doesn't hurt anymore. So should I assume it was the pizza? Or are we doomed for another round of illness in this house?
Please, Lord. I am begging you. I'll pitch the leftovers. Let it be the pizza.
All the King’s Horses
3 hours ago