Blueberry Sickness

One of the advantages of having Olive's crib in our bedroom is that we can be at the ready should she ever wake in the night in a vomiting fit - or three. On Thursday night/Friday morning we were awoken after fewer than two hours of sleep to the miserable sound of an earlier premonition coming to pass. As I was putting Buggy to bed that evening I considered removing her shirt in case she should throw up. This has happened very seldom - so seldom that one would wonder why I'd even take precautions, but it crossed my mind. However, I dismissed it; she'd given me no reason to expect her to, yet I had, just prior to laying her down to sleep, allowed her to shovel nearly an "Amish pint" of blueberries into her face. This is what led me to believe that she wasn't, in fact, sick-sick, but merely sick of blueberries. I sprung from bed and leapt the foot and a half to her crib to find her in a puddle of purple mash. We removed her sheet and shirt, covered in the stuff just as I had feared, comforted her and put her back to bed. An hour passed before she was at it again. The third time it happened, not two hours later, I'd used up the last sheet so had to put down towels on her mattress. When we all woke at 6:30 she was fine and in good spirits. I'm convinced that it was simply a case of overindulgence.

It'll be a while before she has blueberries again.