Saturday, May 2, 2009

Save me some smashed potatoes. . . .

Such a sick little boy. Wes woke up Thursday with a raging fever. I qualify for "Mom of the Year" because he woke me up in the middle of the night and said he wasn't feeling well. I felt around on him and told him to get a drink and go back to sleep. John woke me up about 6:30am and told me to come and feel Wes. He had a temp of 103.4. Poor kid fought it through Saturday before it finally broke. When the kids are sick I make them a "sick bed" on the couch. He slept in his sick bed all day on Thursday and Friday and woke up Saturday feeling better. His biggest worry through all of this was that he wouldn't get any mashed potatoes and corn (mixed together, he is my kid after all) at his sister's First Communion Party on Sunday. He was a trooper and kept telling me he was sorry, as if he could help being so sick. I realized it was all over on Saturday afternoon when he got in trouble for, once again, throwing a football in the hallway.

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