Willow was sick last night. Of course, being twoandahalf, she couldn't really tell us what was wrong. She woke Jen up at around 2, and spent the next two hours crying and saying, "ow!" At 4, Jen had a feeling that she was going to throw up, so she got up and headed for the bathroom.

She didn't make it.

Imagine a wall, a person, and a floor covered in what looks like the results of an attempt by agitated monkeys to paint with cottage cheese.

I got up to clean the puke. Jen got into the bath with Willow. Poor Willow. She was pale and quieter than usual. When I got her out, though, she insisted on getting her mom a towel and bringing it to her herself. It's moments like this that bring a tear to my eye. She must have been feeling miserable, but she was still helping out. I love her. I'm going to miss her, and Jen, and the other kids when I'm in Seattle this week.