The Badoo was really sick last night. It started at around 11pm and went on until just after 3am. Vomiting every ten minutes until she was feebily retching and heaving every ten instead. "I don't want to do this anymore, mummy," said my weak little trouper at one point. My heart coiled.
How helpless and worried and pained I felt. And at the back of my mind, just for that one moment, but there: how am I going to manage work tomorrow? What if I need to stay home with her? How inconvenient.
Oh, how I hate it. How I hate myself in those wretched little moments. Fleeting, but slow enough to scar.
[Image via weheartit, please let me know if it's yours.]