G-Rex ran to me. "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" she called breathlessly.
"What's wrong?" I asked, dropping the laundry I had been sorting into the washer.
"Mommy! Ursa has white stuff all over her head!"
"White stuff? What is it?"
"I don't know! Will she be OK?"
"Could it be spit-up?" I suggested.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked up at me skeptically. "Um. I don't think so."
Together we made our way to the living room, calling the WunderMutt... who saw us coming, tucked her tail between her legs and scampered into her kennel with a plaintive whine. After a little coaxing she made her way out of her sanctuary. Sure enough, there was a thick white substance all over the top of her head.
I looked over at the baby gym thingy where GERD-Girl squealed in delight and waved her arms at me. Her chin bore a lumpy layer of baby puke which spread down the front of her jammies.
And over the expanse of the baby gym.
And onto the proximal surface of the coffee table.
Miraculously, there was no vomit on the carpet in front of the baby gym.
Where the poor dog had been resting.