He ate what??

We went to storytime at the library for the first time today. Super fun and we're definitely going to need to add that into our routine! It was fun seeing friends from Catalyst there, too. So we were getting ready to leave and we're saying our goodbyes to the teacher, Kathy, and she mentions that Jacob looks sleepy...which he does...but he shouldn't because he slept from 7:00 p.m. - 7:30 a.m. and it was only 11:15 a.m.

We're driving home and I notice he just looks plain delirious! We get home, I handcraft an English muffin pizza on a plate - I'm so excited because he should just love this lunch! - and what does he do? Pushes it away without even taking a bite. What? Weird...I take his plate, brush his face with my hand and he feels warm. Take his temp and it's 101.2... ugh! Grammie & DiDaddy are coming from Florida tomorrow and the last two times they've come to visit we've passed around the yuckies - we can't be doing this again! So I put him to bed and hope that when he wakes up, he will magically be all better.

Three hours later...

He wakes up crying. Not a good sign. I walk in and he has big, crocodile tears running down his face and is sweating. Maybe the fever has broken? Nope... still a low-grade fever... Maybe he wants a drink. Yep! Drains his cup dry. Maybe he's hungry now? Nope, still not hungry... Ugh. We watch a little Sesame Street and then head to Nana and Poppie's for our farewell Ferrer dinner (sidenote: they close on their house tomorrow! SOOOOO glad for them... so sad for us, but again - so very happy their family will be reunited and living under one roof again!).

On our way over, Jacob is miserable. He whimpers a few times along the way. We're almost to their house and he starts full-on crying. If you know this kid, you know what a high pain tolerance he has. He must be feeling AWFUL. So I pull over, give him some ibuprofen and take his temp... still a low-grade fever.

We get to their house; Daddy takes him out of the van, and we go inside. I help Mom get things going for dinner and she wonders if perhaps his two-year molars are coming in early? Good point... he's gotten all of his other teeth way ahead of schedule! So I walk over to the couch where Jacob is sitting on Jonathan's lap watching tv (again, if you know this boy, you know sitting still is not the norm for him), take out his paci and stick my finger in his mouth.

Oh.
My.
Goodness.

Cue projectile vomiting.
And it keeps going
and going
and going.

Along with the multitude of juice came a wet wipe.

What? A wet wipe? He ate a wet wipe?

How did he not choke on it going down? How did he not choke on it coming back up? When did he eat that? How did he get it?

Well, as for answers to any of these questions, I have no clue. But I am super-thankful that this cottony cloth didn't get lodged in his airway or in his intestines!!! Wow. Grateful, shocked, relieved.

So one more layer of crazy... our dog, Tiger, also has an affinity for wet wipe consumption. In fact, I awoke to him 2 nights ago heaving, hacking and puking up one of these himself.

Jacob, no more lessons from the dog, please!