We went to eat at our favorite sandwich place yesterday.   Bethany hasn’t been feeling good, but she seemed in good spirits.   We sat down, had a great sandwich and were talking.   About that time Bethany came up.

“Daddy I’m sick.” she said in her normal sweet voice.

Then she threw up all over the floor.

“Oh sweetheart, are you okay?  Let’s get you to the bathroom.”

I scooped her up and started to take her that way, when she threw up again.

“Cleanup on asile 2,” I called.

The workers were in the back (we were the only people in the restaurant), and they came out and cleaned her up.  She was perfectly sweet and didn’t fuss at all during the whole time.

Afterward, we tried to get out as fast as we could while they were cleaning.   Timothy was carying some of the drinks.  He decided once we got out to the car that he wanted to take a sip of water.   He spilled it and most of it ran off of his shirt, but got a little of it wet.  He fussed and cried immediatly.  “I don’t want to wear a wet shirt!!”

What a contrast.