We put Dani to bed tonight and she was fussy. I blamed myself because her musical elephant and her snuggy were in the wash so the routine was different. She was screaming her head off, but after about 12 agonizing minutes (and two visits by mommy) she went to sleep. For the record, I told Big Man that it was not the fussy baby who wants attention scream but that I thought something may be the matter. He dismissed me with his stock line, "She's a baby. Babies cry." The sleep was short-lived, lasting for about 25 minutes until a storm blew in and blew the fan out of her window and onto the floor. CRASH! Commence baby screaming. Big Man and I both go upstairs and I pick her up to comfort her, and she's doing that crying/hiccoughing/head jerking tic thing which only happens when she is really, really upset. So, I hand her to Big Man for the ultra-daddy soothe.
It turns out, my timing was perfect, as Dani promptly projectile vomited all over him.
Sometimes, it's just the luck of the draw, who gets puked on.