In less than a minute, Havana put her entire little body into 3 violent heaving vomits. Two of them as she walked in the front door, and one on her way to the bathroom to clean up. She was drained. Some kind of stomach bug.
I tried to reassure her by telling her that she should feel better now. I think she did. Its not possible to take a bullet for your little one when they’re sick. But human empathy can cut like a knife too.
Karen, in her current state, got a bit more nauseous than one would normally be by that particularly evil penetrating smell.
Well, we cleaned Havana up and lay her down on the sofa. A comrade was over who’s visiting from New Orleans where he’s been fighting evictions. Havana listened to our boring conversation and began to drift off in her cozy blanket comfort zone. For nigh on two years she has only ever slept in her crib. For the first time since she’s was a tiny wee bairn she nodded off on the sofa. Now and then we'd all stop talking and look over at her slipping deeper and deeper into sleep.
She lay there. Innocent, shell-shocked and drained. As sweet as life could possibly look.
