As predicted, I had a shit-ass sleep while Miss O enjoyed a womb-like slumber, and this morning she was doing much better, while I kept nodding off every 10 minutes, despite my five mugs of crystal meth. No fluids purged from any of her purging holes today, and she managed to choke down some applesauce, toast, couscous and chicken noodle soup. I'll probably still worry about her tonight, but if she wakes up her normal, crabass self tomorrow morning, well, then it's off to camp with her.
The Old Lady and I split the day again, although she actually hung with the girl longer, giving me the opportunity to try (and fail) to be productive for work. Hard to write the hee-larious trivia questions on no fucking sleep. I called it a day when I was trying, unsuccessfully, to craft a question highlighting the similarities between Elvis and elves. Didn't quite work out.
I was much more productive hanging with Miss O, though. We played with her Groovy Girls for what seemed like 18 days, and we watched some Spongebob. My finest moment was when she asked if I could make her some instruments to play. I started out simple and rubber-banded some wax paper over a paper towel tube, making a tubular, yet tympanic-membrane-piercing kazoo. She tooted on that thing for awhile, but then demanded something else. I scanned the kitchen and saw the empty couscous box, an empty Cheerios box and some rubber bands. A few scissor cuts and scotch tapings later, and I handed her a fucking awesome geetar. I call it either the "Strato-couscous-ter" or "The Cheeri-axe":
It sounds awesome -- very boingy. I'm thinking we're going to record her "Math Day" song with it. It's either gonna rock the house, or sound like a five year old girl singing over a couscous box with rubber bands on it. Fine line.
And now I shall retire. Not much longer have words in fingers type for the sleeping take over.......................................