And honestly, since I am barely keeping two adult humans and one humanette alive and well these days with my work schedule this week, the pooch is lucky I didn't claim him as my own. I suspect dogs are more demanding than 10-year-olds in some ways.
Speaking of 10-year-olds, I won't be surprised if the SPCA or it's humanette equivalent shows up at my doorstep today after my conversation yesterday in Walgreen's with the (inept) pharmacist:
Me: We need something for a cough. A horrible cough. An all night cough that makes me want to stick knitting needles in my ears.
Him: Well, I'm sure it's no fun for you either, missy, now is it (to Carlie).
Me: Heh (skeptically)
Him: (handing me children's cough syrup) A tablespoon of this ought to do it.
Me: I've been giving her the adult stuff. Three or Four tablespoons. And she's still coughing. All night. Loudly.
Him: That's too much! You can't give her that much! This has dextromethoraphan in it. It's a very strong medicine.
Me: Me, well it's not like it's going to kill her.
And we got out of there. With the adult cough syrup. Which she only took a normal dose of because the switch from Claritin to Zyrtec seems to have been the magic bullet.
And no need to comment on my overmedicating my child. She has a high tolerance. It's genetic. It's how my people roll. You don't even want to know how much cough syrup I take at night if I have a cough. Not to mention the 800-1200 mg of ibuprofen for aches and pains. Seriously HIGH TOLERANCE in everyone in my family. Served my sister and I well in many drinking contests though.