If it's not one hospital visit for a stressed-out tummy belonging to one, 35-year-old single mother of two - it's another hospital (literally) visit for what we thought was an "ant-bite-gone-terribly-wrong" on my sweet, newly anointed "six-year old" during what was to be her "birthday weekend." Poor little bugger.
Turns out that "bite" is really an abcess (a.k.a staph infection; a.k.a my WORST nightmare) that is so swollen and red, she could no longer walk w/o pain upon waking up this morning.
I feel like my house was the one referenced by Mercutio in "Romeo and Juliet" when he vehemently cried "A plague on both your houses!" Is it wrong to hope that plague leaves us and finds her father's house, where-ever that may "currently" be?)
I apologize. I know that's tacky, and NOT a very Christan thought to put into the written word. I am a firm believer in making Sara's beloved "papa" stay a Saint in her eyes. For her to think he left b/c he didn't love her is criminal.
How about an abscess for an abscess? Or $25,000 in back child-support for...I'll stop there. It's been a looooong....decade?