Well everyone, I'm back way sooner than was planned. Why, you ask? Was Layla trying to set things on fire? Were YOU trying to set things on fire? Did the car spontaneously start losing parts on the way out of town? OMG, did you kill your child and you're now a fugitive from justice?
No, none of these. Granted, the 14-hour car ride was pretty interesting. And nervous-breakdown-inducing. And being jammed in the back of a two door car with a three year old who thinks poking mommy to wake her up every time she falls asleep just to amuse herself was pretty fucking hilarious. And let's not forget her constant insistence that she needed to pee, upon which we'd try to get her out of her car seat and she'd scream like we were trying to feed her to a pack of ravenous bears: "I already pee peeeeeeeeeeeedddd", and then screaming AGAIN that she had to fucking pee as soon as we got her all buckled in again. *twitch*
But none of that is why we're back early. I got REALLY sick. The third day we were there. I was puking up everything like the damn exorcist. I ran a fever off and on. My whole body felt like it was being beaten with a sockful of marbles. There's a reason for this, but it's way too depressing and not nearly as amusing as making fun of my child, and inundating you all with her various escapades. Just wait until I tell you about our experience of trying to get her to pee outside. Fun times.
I have a few entries planned. And I'm going to respond to all your comments, for which I love you long time. But for now, I'm still trying to get over being struck with the plague. I just wanted to let you all know I was back early, so you can rejoice or run screaming or cry or stab me in the face. Whichever you prefer. But for now, here's a pointless post to distract you. You're welcome.