(As an aside, Frosted Mini Wheats are one of the least offensive foods to puke up, semi-digested.)
(Also, I have a strange love of catchy ballads about psycho chicks killing innocent children. Don't judge.)
I don't particularly like Mondays either. When I was a kid I'd
But now, in my pregnant state, I don't have to pretend because my fetus is making me sick. My baby is already taking after me! Oh
Which leaves me wiping the puke off my face, trying to brush my teeth without setting off another episode, and trudging off to work with a look of martyrdom on my face. And making a mental note not to leave the room when I take my kid's temperature. Because I totally knew that trick about how to fake a fever.