We had just put Zoe to bed, I was washing my face, and Zak was picking Ellie up from her crib to bring downstairs.
I hear a very panicked, “Molly! Molly! Molly!”
I rush into the bedroom and assuming something is really, really wrong. Zak says, “What would make Ellie wet?” as he points to a small wet spot on the sheet near Ellie’s head.
I, relieved, respond, “Spit up.”
“Oh,” Zak says, “I thought she was leaking out of somewhere. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen spit up.”
