Puker.

Yesterday when we got home from Elba's, Layla puked all over Mike and her bedroom floor.  And then continued to puke over, and over, and over, and over, until about 2 this morning.  She was pretty miserable there for a bit, but she handled it really well.  We even managed to teach her how to recognize when she has to be sick and how to get to the toilet and puke in there.  Sheesh, my little girl is all grown up and has the skills necessary to go off to college.

She also had the runs and informed me that she needed a new booty.  When I asked her why, she told me cause hers was sick.  Duh.

I didn't have a case to hear for grand jury until 3, so I decided to keep her home and let them sleep in.  Layla woke up and felt fine.  After eating breakfast and hanging out for a while, I deemed her healthy enough to go to Elba's.  I struggled through trying to let Elba know what was going on in my limited Spanish.   And I think she got it.  At least she looked at Layla like she felt bad for her, so I took that as a sign of understanding.  And judgement on my parenting decision to bring her in.  But damn, I'm out of sick days and she's a pain in the ass when she is kept home and ends up feeling fine.

Tonight is our first night going bandage free on her burn.  All of dead skin is clear of the burn and there is a layer of new, pink skin covering it.  We need to let it air out some, but I think we'll need to slowly wean her from the bandage.  She loves getting a new one put on every night and has come to feel safe with it on.  I'll go ahead a wrap it tomorrow before she goes to Elba's, just in case it gets bumped, but then we'll use this long weekend to get her off the wrap.

Wrap is whack.