Cubby Down

A cold may not get the raging typhoon Cubby down, but whatever he had yesterday sure did. Poor kid was plastered to my front for four hours yesterday afternoon. He had a very slight fever, but otherwise displayed no signs of illness. No signs other than the fact that he didn't want to run around and get into trouble. All he wanted to do was sleep on my lap on the couch, huddled under the sheepskin.

So that's what we did.

Because I was pinned to the couch by a quite heavy child, I was really unable to do anything but sit there and think. Always dangerous. Mostly what I thought about, of course, were various scenarios involving trips to the emergency room and that story A. read in the paper yesterday about the girl who died from contracting equine encephalitis from mosquitoes. And the three mosquito bites Cubby got the day before.

Wonderful. This thinking stuff will drive you crazy, man.

By bedtime, however, Cubby had removed himself from my lap, found his wooden hammer, and commenced to chasing the cat around the living room and pulling on the lamp cord. So, obviously a full and speedy recovery then.

Happy Friday, duckies! May your weekend be fever-free.