Pie.

The pig flu? It was nothing for Jill. She was sick for approximately 1.3 seconds. Just long enough to get her banned from school until Monday. Then Emmi got sick, and it seemed like she would follow Jill's pattern. Plus she got the much sought after Tamiflu (even if it took me and a very nice pharmacist forever to track it down). I thought we were golden when by day two she was not horrible. I emailed one of my friends that I thought Emmi was on the upswing. I obviously cursed myself. Upswing, it was not.

She was up all night, coughing. Which meant I was up all night listening to her cough and analyzing her breathing deciding at which point I used which medicine. At three am, she finally fell asleep just in time for a storm to roll in. Kenny and I were up another forty minutes with Jill the dog that was shaking like a damn leaf. Sometime around four I slipped into glorious dream land, only to be woken at 5:45 by Emmi.

"Mommy. Mommy. Where's my pie?" She was crying. She was frantic. I needed her to calm down, because her breathing was already not great. "Pie, Mommy."

I searched. I looked through her covers, under her bed, in her closet. And I had no idea why she wanted that stupid pie toy. Perhaps some strange dream? Maybe something Jill and her fought over. While Jill was sleeping, was Emmi dead set on getting the upper hand? I didn't have a fucking clue. All I know is that I searched for that stupid pie toy for forty-five minutes.

We gave up. Jill woke up. I made hot chocolate for the girls. Jill requested a movie. I set them in front of the TV with their hot chocolate, Emmi still wheezing away. I grabbed Emmi's Kenny's that Emmi claimed for herself ipod, loaded with the latest movie downloads.

"Mommy you found my pie!"

Pie. ipod. She had been trying to say ipod. I searched for a fucking toy pie for 45 minutes on less than three hours of sleep, and I knew where that damn ipod was the whole time.