Last Sunday (the 8th), Dorothy threw up in the middle of the night. We were not shocked because 2 kids were absent from her preschool class on the previous Friday with a stomach bug, and she only puked once and then just sort of laid around for a couple of days without much of an appetite. It was NBD.
But then on Monday, Harry started having chest pains and felt crappy, too. He didn't ever throw up, but he did have to go to the cardiologist for an echo and a check up (he's OK-- he caught it before fluid could accumulate, but he's on a ton of ibuprofen to reduce inflammation and will keep taking it until he has been chest pain-free for 24 hours... still waiting).
And then Cooper said, "I wish they'd move the dead rhino out of the pen," and Dorothy said, "Yes, I see the dead rhino over there."
And Jack and I were like who the what now?
And then we saw him! A brand new LIVE rhino!
(He moved in in May, but we haven't been to the zoo in awhile and now that Trump is president I don't/can't watch the news anymore, so I miss whatever The Atlantic doesn't tell me, and they didn't tell me about Harmon!)
Starting with a mini-mani.
book. It was nice. Except the book is horrifying.
Jack is the last man standing, so I expect projectile vomiting any second now.