So the Barf-O-Rama pretty much ended Friday morning. Pretty much.
And then the Shit-A-Thon began. Or the Shitstorm, if you prefer. Sarah called that night, but I didn't want to deal with her so I didn't answer the phone. She called again Saturday and left a snarky message, so Mikey called her back and lit into her for making the baby sick.
Of course, the day before Britt got sick, we went to playtime at the library and shared toys with 20 other kids, went shopping at two different places, and then stopped by Poppa's store to visit. It's entirely possible that she picked up a virus at any of those places but, somehow, it just feels better to blame Sarah.
The diarrhea started that Friday morning and didn't stop for a week. I'll spare you most of the gory details, except for my candidate for the WORST DIAPER EVER:
Britt had her very first ever poop-running-down-the-leg diaper. When I opened it, the whole thing was filled with a sea of golden liquid, just barely contained within the edges of the diaper. I mean, seriously, I was totally goggled-eyed when I saw it. Somehow I managed to get Britt cleaned up and get the diaper out from under her without spilling anything, and then I stood up to take the foul thing to the trash and it spilled all over the couch, my pants and the carpet. Yay.
But she's all better now and back to being her normal live-wire self. She definitely lost a few pounds during her ordeal because her arms and legs look slimmer. Not skinny, by any means, since she was fairly well-padded before. Bob and Mary took her to the circus on Saturday, as soon as she was well, where they took this picture of her:
As you can see, she may have lost a chin, but she's still a cheeky little thing.
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