Little Boy Sick

The red-headed wonder child, 6yr old grandson, spends the night at our house on Friday nights.  Last night was Friday.  He was here.

Yesterday was the first day of his very first Spring Break.  He and Mommy slept in until almost 11:00.  They thought that was cool.  I saw it as the makings of one of my nightmares.  I was tired and ready for bed somewhere around 9:30.  I'm old remember.  Asher, the well-rested, red-headed wonder child was still going strong at 11:00.  (Insert weary sigh)

Our little man is not so good at sleeping alone, so he usually picks whether he's going to sleep with Mema or Pepa.  I won that lottery last night.  But we didn't sleep much.  The stuffy-nosed, well-rested, red-headed wonder child couldn't breathe, or find any comfortable position and he needed water four times. 

Somewhere around 4AM I awoke and felt I was "sleeping" next to an easy-bake oven.  I padded off to the bathroom at the far end of the house (since the close one is just a spare and not in complete working condition) to get the thermometer so that I could determine what temperature the oven was set at.  It was a toasty, and yes, rather miserable-feeling 100.4 (and my experience is that home thermometers are always a tad lower than the high power super-effecient doctor office ones, so his temp was probably a wee bit higher).  I tried to get him to take some children's pain medicine.  By the time I don't have to deal with children anymore, some genius is going to invent a tasteless and colorless concoction that children will take unawares.  I wish I knew how, because I would like to be the person that all mothers rise up and bless.

I must have gotten enough into the miserably-fevered, easy-bake oven, stuffy-nosed, one-time well rested, red-headed wonder child because he allowed me to sleep until a couple minutes after eight. 

I got up and found the homestead missing one husband.  He trotted off early to finish the weekly shopping (he's so good at it and so good to do it).  Before he left the house, however, he decided to try and pull out of the garage while the door was still rising.  Door is a bit mangled and car has some roof damage.  When he told me his retelling was missing what I would have considered the correct amount of contrition.  I would (and have, since I did a similar thing) apologized all over myself.  Not one word of that or any thing remotely resembling that.  We're so different. 

While I have been typing the  miserably-fevered, easy-bake oven, stuffy-nosed, one-time well rested, red-headed wonder child came out to sit with me on the couch to get that last bit of sleepy-time in.  I guess that makes him the cuddly-up, afghan-covered,  miserably-fevered, easy-bake oven, stuffy-nosed, one-time well rested, red-headed wonder child.  (And that's enough of that because I've actually gone to using cut and paste.)

I'm going to rustle up some coffee and I may even break down and use the leaded version...I may need some of the go power today.