One or two mice ganging agley

I had intended to work out some things on the Rocket Girl project tonight, but events have supervened. I picked up Daffodil this evening after work and took her to the grocery store to get a few supplies. Getting out of the car, she put out her arms and said, “Carry me.” So I picked her up, and as we crossed the parking lot she put her head against my neck and said, “I’m dizzy. I feel like I’m going to fall up to the clouds, and you, too.”

Her head wasn’t hot, and she seemed to be in good humor, but she didn’t want to walk, so I put her in the seat of a shopping cart, something she hasn’t done in a long time. As I went around the store, she gradually slumped over and leaned bonelessly on the handle of the cart. I only needed a few things, so it wasn’t long before we got into the check-out line, and as the cashier began to scan our items, Daffodil, without so much as lifting her head, spewed two or three quarts of diverse nastiness on her arms, her coat, my shoes, and at least as much of the floor as I was able to see.

The cashier was very helpful about it, giving me some paper towels to clean her up a bit, and we skedaddled, leaving the mopping up to others, along with our (my- Daffodil was pretty much passed out) profuse apologies.

After some cleaning and changing and more cleaning and spewing and more cleaning Daffodil is passed out on the futon with Harold and the Purple Crayon to lull her, and I am doing laundry…

Work on Rocket Girl has been suspended for the time being.

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A Star Is Born. Or Not.

Princess Daffodil is sick today. She has a fever that goes up and down, and something of a sore throat, but not sufficient to make red spots or large swellings. All in all, she is in languid good humor, mostly watching Harold and the Purple Crayon and critiquing his sartorial choices.

(Daffodil: “Papa, why is he wearing those footies?”

Me: “He’s supposed to be in bed, sleeping.”

Daffodil: “Yeah, but why is he wearing THOSE footies?”)

Also, some time in the last week, she has decided she wants to be on TV.

(Daffodil: “Papa, I want to be on TV.”)

She is contemplating strategies to achieve this:

Daffodil: “Papa, can we put something on America’s Funny Videos?”

Me: “I don’t think we have anything to put on America’s Funny Videos.”

Daffodil: “I could fall in the toilet. I would do that.”

This script has been axed by the suits at the pre-production meeting and sent back to development.