Why the Bleary Eyes

"Mommy...."

"Mom-my...I'm sca-wohd."

*groan*

This was after the thundershower had passed through in the middle of the night but well before a glimpse of daylight appeared.

So I stumbled with the little tyke across the hall and got him safely into bed. It's a poignant ritual we go through about once or twice a month.

Part of the mother/son bonding-and-mess-up-your-whole-day-tomorrow kinda thing.

And then I groped my return to our room, somewhat less adroitly as I bumped into the end of the bed, waking Loren.

"Uh...sorry" I whispered.

So much for a good night's rest.

It being now the bright light of afternoon, things don't look much better. The wee lad has a sniffle. He is indeed on the "Purple Stuff." It keeps him in a non-social stupor...he sits by and watches, not entering into much activity accept to provide a sniffing accompaniment to everyone's schoolwork.

*takes Trevor's temperature*

Well that's just SUPER. 101.1

Not terrible, but enough to mean he's really sick and I have to keep him away from my immune-compromised husband.

BOY am I regrettin' not cleaning that shopping cart off with an anti-bacterial wipe last Tuesday. Careless MA!

Funny how this often happens when I've signed the kids up for special music in church.

And we are supposed to sing at another church the following week...

Hrmmmm.
 

Tweet