spouting

Nicky retrieved this cushion cover from her parents' house last weekend, it being something she apparently constructed at school and to which she has never got around to adding pupils to the eyes since. Luckily Edgar doesn't yet know about zombies so probably won't think the sheep is one.

The latest information indicates that the source of the norovirus-like puking-and-shitting-causing gastro-intestinal malady which the wingpiglet began exhibiting sometime around his bedtime was sourced from a colleague-child at something he went to yesterday rather than the swimming he goes to on Tuesday, which would explain the delay between him getting it and me getting it. We're quite used to completely unexpected vomits of entire portions of food or milk, usually immediately followed by chirpiness on behalf of the vomit-producer betokening no complaint other than just perhaps not wanting the food inside him and not being prepared to wait for it to leave in the normal manner. He was wailing a little and writing about for a few seconds before each ejection of bile and wailing unhappily afterwards, doubtless at the taste and burn as much as the cramping and heaving.

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