D'oh! No, The Red Pill

The kid's been sick the last few days, including a 24-hour stint as a quivering, crying zombie on mom's lap (that was the day grandma came to town for the big 2nd birthday party--which was cancelled due to illness, and which was reduced to the two grandmas and the two parents and one sick kid flinching at the open flame being shoved in her face. At least we got a few pictures off, though, and isn't that what matters at this stage anyway? umm...right. sick.)

So then she got better, mostly, if "wired" is better, because although she still barely ate anything, she was buzzing like a coked up freshman and making about as much sense. And then yesterday, bam, it was like someone had sucked her soul out. She only wanted to sit on the floor all morning, drink milk, and sleep.

After a couple of hours--in which I got tons of work done, thanks, kid--I started getting a little nervous, so I woke the kid up, tried to give her a bit to eat (no), and then gave her her medicine.  She proceeded to lie there inert or asleep for most of the next six hours. I started to freak a bit running through a bunch of exotic diagnoses, running through the ER visit in my mind. By the time my wife came home, the kid was up, and started eating grapes like nothing'd happened.

It was only later, when my wife asked which cold medicine I'd given the kid, that I realized I'd dosed her up with antihistamines, the night-time formula, by mistake. I guess knocking your kid out with cough syrup while you work isn't comparable to, say, leaving them home in an opium-induced stupor while you go to the factory, but still. Had I only known what I'd done, maybe I would've scheduled some more conference calls.