The most powerful drive we have as humans is the need to say, "I TOLD YOU SO." I've scientifically proven this, as of about 7:16 am Pacific.

Timeline:

6:30 am: Both children have somehow ended up in bed with us. The Little One wakes me up by smearing her face all over my face and demanding that we get up, which I do by unwrapping the Big One's leg, which is wound around my body three or four times, and sliding out of bed as gently as possible. This is a normal morning.

6:35 am: Little One has the following complaints: my tummy hurts, my ear hurts, my "yeg" hurts. Yadda yadda yadda. Yeah, I've heard it all, and here's a big WHATEVER for your trouble. Every morning, noon, and night, something hurts because Little One loves bubblegum-flavored Motrin. Somebody has to be dying before I dish it out, because they just lie, lie, lie to get it.

6:40 am: Mommy, I'm going to throw up. Again, WHATEVER. A couple of months ago, the Little One threw up in her car seat, and from the volume you'd think we'd been to Hometown Buffet or a county fair eating contest. The reaction she got was so impressive that she tells me she's going to throw up about ten times a day.

6:50 am: The Little One has been up for a good twenty minutes without demanding food or drink. Now THAT is odd.

7:00 am: Still no eating, and the litany of complaints continues. The Big One is up by now eating her breakfast at the table, but the Little One isn't having anything to do with it. I consider leaving her home just for good measure.

7:15 am: I call the preschool to tell them she isn't coming in. The teacher reports that other parents have called in because their kids are puking. Interesting. I hang up the phone.

7:16 am: The Little One bends over at the waist just slightly and dumps about a liter of Whatever on the floor. She looks up at me, smiles, and yells: TOLD YA!

By 7:18 am, the entire couch is covered with blankets, and the supply of beach towels has been similarly deployed. The Little One has the puke bucket on her head while she watches Grover dancing on the TV, wearing a very self-satisfied glow that only comes with I Told You So.