Dairy Overdose

This is what it looks like when Vinny overdoses on dairy.

"You ate how many croissants?!" asks Hubby.

"Three," moans Vinny.

"Do you know how much butter is in croissants?" says Hubby, directing his lecture at me. "They're practically all butter."

I have a strong feeling Vinny's not going to eat another croissant for a very, very long time. Poor little guy. Sadly, he gets his lactose intolerance from me.

Then Hubby turns his full attention on me, practically blinding me with his scrutinzing interrogation lamps.

"What did he eat for dinner last night?" Hubby asks.

Uh oh.

"Chicken and french fries," I say softly, hoping he won't hear me.

"Greasy French fries!" exclaims Hubby.

"I didn't get them from Burger King, which is where YOU would have gotten them from," I say. "I baked them in the oven. They weren't greasy."

Right after I peeled them by hand. Not really. But I think Ore-Ida did? Maybe. Besides, I was single parenting last night because YOU were at a meeting. Thanks for going!

I needed something easy. The French fries didn't make me sick, and Lourdes knows everything else does, so they couldn't have been that bad. It wasn't like I knew he was going to get sick at 3 a.m. And by the way, thanks for getting up with him five times. You. Are. The. Best. Husband. I. Ever. Had.

Looks like it's going to be a day of no surfing for me, and of sipping water for Vinny. One sip every 15 minutes, increasing by a sip, if he keeps the last sip down.

And the sipping plan was working fine until Vin Vin got up to three sips of water.

"Wretch!" coughs Vinny.

Back to one sip. I'm glad I surfed three hours yesterday. I thought I was being overindulgent. But I was just making up for today. Turns out, I'm a much better nurse when I'm surfed out.