Here's the Story

Tonight we took the kids to what used to be our favorite place in Frisco, Dave's Double Dip Frozen Custard. I use the term "used" because after tonight, we won't be returning. Nothing personal, Dave. But my family's digestive systems can't take it anymore (if you catch my drift). It usually is a fun thing to do on a summer night, festive lights, hopscotch, park benches, and lots of local folk. It will be sad to not return, unless they start selling Pepto Bismol with each Sundae.

Well, on our way home, we were jiving to "Dancing Queen" , a la Mama Mia soundtrack, when little Bird did a funky twist and threw out her back. Yes, she is only five, so try to figure that one out. So an hour of drama later, she falls asleep, only then to be woken up by and severe attack of the runs (sorry sweetie for the details). I then, of course, have to CARRY her to the toilet, which is nearly impossible cause my wrist is acting up {I suppose it is tendinitis, thank you yoga}. Well the poor thing is just suffering beyond belief, so on nights like tonight, the only comfort is the following:

[that is MY bed, her dog, Ruffy (bff of 4 years), her favorite night gown and her blanket that Grandma Hurst made for her while she was still in the womb, and then she sleeps like a log]