Stinks is sick. It’s just a cold + slight fever, but it’s enough to keep him pretty good and pissed off. A smile sneaks out every once in awhile, but he quickly remembers he can’t breathe very well and gets ticked all over again. Today is better than yesterday, but last night sucked out loud.
I do feel like I’ve undergone a parental rite of passage though, since I’ve now sat cradling my snorting (yes I meant ‘snorting’ not snoring) baby in a steamy bathroom as the shower runs full blast and I curse my partner for sleeping through the whole ordeal. Since you can’t give small babies any drugs, sitting in an improvised sauna is about all parents can do to make themselves feel slightly less helpless. Mr. Aggie took over for a short time this morning and later this afternoon while I took a woefully inadequate nap.
Now Andrew’s chilling in his bouncer while his dad watches golf–which might be even less of a sport than basketball, but that’s another post. He just said “It’s getting exciting!” which is helpful information since the British announcers’ inflections don’t give anything away. They narrate a suspenseful come-from-behind charge the same way they droll on about the errant blade of grass on the 16th green. That’s why he’s always turned golf on when he wants me to leave him alone get a much needed nap.
I feel myself slipping under, even now…