Yep, it got Daya.
She called me on the way home from school and said, "I can't go to dance. I just can't."
I said, "Come home." (I usually work from home on Fridays so I was home.)
Daya took the bus instead of walking because she felt so terrible.
When she got home she looked dreadful and had a fever.
I gave her medicine and sent her straight to bed.
She passed out. Coma status.
When I had my stuffy-cold Rob called me and mentioned orange juice.
I did not have any, nor did I even think about it until he mentioned it.
Then, I NEEDED it.
So I sent Daya to the store to get orange juice. I gave her my credit card since I was out of cash, and I hoped since they know us in Duane Reade down the corner it wouldn't be a problem. I told her to call me if there was a problem. She was also allowed to get herself something nice; whatever she wanted. Oh, and I needed butter, too. OJ, butter, and whatever she wanted.
There were no problems at Duane Reade and Daya came home with OJ and butter. I asked what did she get for herself, and she said nothing, she didn't want anything. I guess no one is going to question MOM SENT ME when a child is getting orange juice and butter with a credit card. AND she even put in my phone number for my reward points! Daya is the Best Ever.
This is one of the super-nice things about urban life. You can send your kid to the store. Apparently with your credit card!
While Daya was in her coma I went to the store and got her some OJ. And salmon. Which was a good thing because she woke up STARVING. I knew she would be starving. So I fed her and made her take a hot bath and drink orange juice and she got slathered with Vicks. Which she hates passionately.