Temperature: 100.3 degrees.
Symptoms: coughing, sneezing, headache, fatigue.
General mood: surprisingly pleasant, openly affectionate, remarkably agreeable, and awfully quiet.
Yes, we’ve got our first sick kid of the season here at home, and it couldn’t have come more out of nowhere. It happened on a Sunday morning right after a hairy canary Friday night and Saturday day, wherein we’d somehow managed to squeeze in school, a girl scout meeting, a girl scout ceremony, a homecoming parade, a kids fun event at church, a soccer game, a playdate, a birthday party, and a visit to the local corn maze.
That’s enough to make anybody sick.
To be honest, I practically couldn’t sleep after I looked at the ink-barfed calendar that I’d loaded up the day before (who schedules ANY mandatory children’s activity 2 days after Christmas?!?!?!!). The craziness of these kids’ schedules would drive a celebrity right to the front page of a supermarket tabloid. Think Mariah Carey completely disoriented on Total Request Live. Or a freshly shaven Britney Spears. Thankfully I do not have broad enough media exposure to embarrass myself royally with a “they’ve gotta go where?!?!” nervous breakdown in the middle of a sea of paparazzi.
But back to the sickie.
Neither of my children has run a good fever in a long time, and, besides being a natural braking mechanism for our schedules of insanity, I’ve found that sickness just brings out the sweet in them. The “I love you” eyes. The cozy cuddling. The “It’s OK, Mom” expressions. They’ll downright melt you.
So here I am…hating the germs but loving the sneezer. I mean, I’d love him anyway, but the sweet symptoms make liking him pretty much effortless. And if you’re looking for a silver lining in this anti-bacterial world of ours, man, that’s it–right there.