Pam hastily pulled up to her house, sighing as Laura let out another angry squeal.
“Okay, we’re home we’re home,” Pam sighed. At the daycare center, Mrs. Brown had held Laura at arms length, her eyes fearful of the spewing baby. Phillip had cried about his stomach the entire ride home, and now Pam had a splitting headache. She pulled the kids from the car and fumbled with the keys at the door, slipping inside just as another wave of vomit spilled from Laura’s mouth. Pam plopped her kids on the floor and fell back against the wall. One minute, three kids was easy, exhilarating even. Then a few moments later, something like this happened and sent everything into a sticky, vomit covered mess.