You write the ending

"Ewww! Gross!" Pookie squealed, pointing at the object of her fascination.

I was engrossed in another task, but her revolted tone immediately captured my attention, prompting me to investigate the cause of her disgust. Upon reaching my child, my first reaction was to recoil in horrified revulsion. Fighting back the urge to vomit, I almost ran to my bathroom where I reached for my stash of emergency supplies.

"Come on! I know you're in here!" I muttered as my hasty fingers fumbled with the contents of the basket. As always happened in moments of sudden stress, adrenaline surged through me, causing my body to shake and further hindering my search. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally found the necessary items and dashed back to Pookie.

"It's okay, Baby. Mommy will take care of everything." I was amazed that my voice sounded reassuring, almost normal even.

I consciously forced myself to breathe steadily as I reached for...

You finish the story: what had Pookie found?