Monday, December 11, 2006
After I landed in New Jersey, I called Don. You know, to see what was up.
He had been on the phone with Poison Control. Apparently Becca had a sore throat, so she decided to take some medicine. Being the self-sufficient gal she is, she climbed onto the bathroom counter, opened the medicine cabinet, figured out which bottle was hers (the Children's Motrin), undid the "childproof" cap, and glugged down half a bottle.
Apparently someone Becca's size would have to drink 2 bottles of Motrin for it to be toxic... nonetheless she did barf a lot and scared the pants off poor Don.
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