Sometimes

Sometimes I wish I was the Dad. Really.

I was awakened by a voice: "Mom, I just threw up in the kitchen sink."

I opened my eyes and saw Sleeping Beauty standing over me. King mumbled, "Yuck," and rolled over. I questioned Sleeping Beauty about her tummy and her throat and her head and her eating habits. I felt her forehead, gave her a hug, got her a "puke bowl" and tucked her back in bed, cleaned the kitchen sink. Then I laid awake for the next thirty minutes, waiting to hear her getting sick again and thinking and worrying.

Poor Sleeping Beauty, tomorrow is a field trip at school. She's going to be so sad to miss it.

Why is she sick? She isn't hot. She feels fine. What did she eat? Was it once, is she done? I hope she misses the floor if she is going to puke again.

Oh, great, she's supposed to dance for the ward party Friday. I hope she's okay.

Hmmm, I guess I'm not going to the lunch and shopping date I have planned. I'll have to cancel that. And no grocery shopping either.

I hope she doesn't get the Swine Flu. She won't, I'm sure she's fine. I wonder why she's sick.

And on and on, until I finally convinced myself she was done being sick and fell back asleep. And what was King doing? Sleeping. I'm not sure he even remembers Sleeping Beauty coming into our room. I'm tired. I need to be more like the Daddy.

?(Sleeping Beauty is fine, by the way. She was only sick that once and is back to her perky, non-puky self!)