That was putting it mildly. His temp was 102.8. Being a mean sort of mommy, I like to let his body try to fight such things off on its own so he didn't get any fever-reducing meds until bedtime. He woke up fever-free and much, much happier. He's got a little cough and the nose is starting to drip a little, but I think we may have escaped anything more serious.
[I'll no doubt regret saying this "out loud" but we have remarkably healthy kids. Oliver has had one round of antibiotics in his nearly three years. When bugs start going around at school he almost always has a milder version of what the other kids have, if he gets it at all. Eleanor has not been sick yet, beyond a runny nose last December. Neither has had an ear infection. I have no idea how this has happened, though I'm willing to give some credit to making sure they get enough sleep, even if it means taking a pass on doing something fun that would keep them up past their usual bedtime.]
We have reached the stage where words from Oliver are expected and not terribly earth-shattering but whole sentences are truly astonishing (to his parents). Here is a sampling of things I heard today:
"Pat me on the head, like Bubba."
"Is that a tunnel? I go through."
"I pretending. Bubba and me go shopping together. I need a purse."
"I love you more. You go away now."
No one was more astonished than his Granny in England when we rang her this afternoon. First he sang a song to her in Spanish (Don Alfredo Baila, from Music Together), then he got his tea set and made her a cuppa, even getting the "milk" added at the right moment. CD and I decided he may have a bright future as a butler, if the whole hairdressing thing doesn't work out.
[Monday morning update: Here's what Oliver said in the car, as I was strapping him into the carseat: "I need a nose wipe. And my fingers. Have nose on them."]
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