The past few days have been crazy. It has nothing to do with Christmas. It has everything to do with you getting sick for the first time.
It was Christmas Eve. You and I were hanging out like we do every morning. Except this morning, even though you hadn’t eaten for 11 hours, you weren’t interested in your bottle. I kept at it, and half an hour later, and less than half your bottle later, you puked on your self, on me, the couch, even the floor.
You didn’t cry, but I panicked.