Dear little Jonnel! (I’m not sure how long I called you that, for a little while anyhow) I just put you to bed. You were sick yesterday but are better today although you are very tired, I think.
Sunday night at about 12:00 you began to vomit and lost all your supper. I was worried because I didn’t know if it was because of a bump on the head you got at church or something you ate on the floor or what. You’ve never really been sick before. You didn’t have a fever, but you kept on throwing up, even after your stomach was empty and nothing came up but some yellowish spit. I changed your bed many times and you ran out of pajamas. You looked at Daddy and me as if it was our fault. You were awfully good though – just lay there and watched as I read my books trying to figure out what to do. You finally slept again about 3:00. In the morning you couldn’t keep your cereal down, so I called the hospital. They said to start slowly, give you ice chips first after an hour and then gradually work up to juices and then to solids. But we got you up to crackers and you threw up again. About 3 in the afternoon, we started ice chips again. You finally ate a few salt cracks and juice for supper and this morning you’re OK. I still don’t know what was wrong.
Terry Allen down the street gave you his ride-on truck. You love it, especially when you sit on it and Daddy pushes you around. It really is funny. You bee the horn and smile. It has storage in the back where you keep your owl. I love to watch you play with it. You are beginning to learn to play alone.