Funky flu and bad behavior.

2005-03-01
2:07 p.m.

Oldest Son came to our bedside at 2:00 this morning to tell me his throat hurt. I got up and gave him some Motrin and cuddled with him in his bed before returning to ours.

At 4:00 he woke me again to tell me his throat still hurt and he was cold. I didn't take his temperature then, but he definitely had some fever. I told him to get in bed with us and mentally began planning my call list most working moms have to do when one of their children are sick.

We've already visited the pediatrician this morning, and it's not strep, but a virus that has been making its way through his school. The fever should be around a couple days, and the coughing, etc. for about a week. Lovely.

Youngest Son shows no signs of it yet, so I'm hoping he can skip this round of sickness. Yeah, I know, but I can HOPE, can't I?

Hubby couldn't find his work keys this morning. Unusual, since he always hangs them on the key rack in the kitchen. After several minutes searching, we gave up and asked Youngest Son if he knew where the keys were. He very calmly told us they were in the backyard. Gah!

And no, we didn't find them in the backyard, Hubby had actually left them at work, but now we're wondering which set of keys actually are in the backyard, and just where in the backyard are they.

While I was taking a shower this morning, Youngest Son opened the shower door to ask me "What is this?" In his hand was the cardboard roll from the center of a roll of paper towels. My mental image of the pile of paper towels all over the cabinet and floor was later proven accurate.

Last night the same innocent Youngest Son poured a whole bottle of bubble bath into the bathtub in the three nanoseconds I wasn't in the bathroom. That's the second time he's done that in the last two weeks. And yes, I know, I should have put it back up on the shelf immediately after I used it. I'm old and I forget sometimes, which is a luxury you just can't have, forgetting something, with Youngest Son. Because he ALWAYS remembers what it was he wanted to do.

Hubby and I have spent quite a lot of time lately blaming the other's karma for giving us this wild child. He's almost always a happy kid, but he just never stops. He is a much bigger daredevil and risk-taker than I think his brother will ever be. It's clear to see why we dread the days Youngest Son hits the scooter, skateboard, and two-wheel bicycle stages. Someone told us recently, after seeing Youngest Son in action, "I see some stitches in his future." Sadly, I do, too.

The main folk enjoying Youngest Son, though, are my brothers. They hoot and holler and slap their legs with glee every time I tell them Youngest Son's activities. They think I deserve a child like this. (Not true.) Mike told me recently that it's really a shame how much enjoyment they're getting out of watching me be tortured to death one day at a time.

But you know what I plan to do to him (Mike) today? I'm fixing to send Oldest Son upstairs and tell him Uncle Mike is online, so go talk to him on Yahoo Messenger. And be sure to send Uncle Mike every audible on the list, too. Heh heh heh.

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