I was working at a wedding all day Saturday and when I called Ed on my way home that night, he said "I have to call you back...I'm cleaning Ava's throw up out of the car." Gross. Gross. And thank goodness I missed it.
Poor Ava, who was exhausted from a long week of school, overfull of junk, and out in the heat all day, finally had enough. Ava has a little of her daddy's stomach issues so this is not totally unusual (although doing it in the car is!). She is an independent girl and handled the whole ordeal without a single tear and in fact politely knocked on our door a couple times in the night to poke her head in and say, "I threw up again" and then pitter patter back to bed.
By the morning she was her usual cheerful self even though I made her sit here on the couch for most of the day.
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