paste can't quench my thirst for glue

Pinga doesn't like us to eat at other people's houses, I guess. Last Tuesday she barfed in the car on our way to the Beardens' for a Voice Male FHE (minus the lesson, because we have got a lesson, and there cannot be any more lesson), and then tonight after we got home from John's parents' house she barfed some sort of black, tarry substance all over John's shirt, and is still going strong three barfs later. She got some in her hair, and that is the saddest sight, a little girl with blackish green barf all matted in her golden curls. Sniff.

Barf is a weird word. We don't know for sure what it is that has caused her ailment, but whatever it is, it's probably garbage. Like, literal garbage. I need to start putting the can where she can't reach it, because she's always ferreting around in there for goodies. So weird. Maybe she has pica. I ate sand and glue when I was little, is she better than me?