This week the 2 year old has a cold or the flu or something. Whatever it is, it's bad. Fever, sore throat, stuffy nose, body aches, profuse sweating, throwing up: the whole deal. I've actually never seen anybody but myself this sick that wasn't actually dying.
after
After a particularly nasty bout of yacking, during which he scared the crap out of me by choking and looking as though he wasn't ever going to breath again, he spent the afternoon lying in bed asking me not to leave him. I had parked it on the floor beside his bed with a book when he woke up to cough/gag. I must have looked as scared as I felt because he just said in a really pitiful voice, "I'm okay, Mommy." Very sweet but it made me realize, and I'm not proud of this, but I think that if it were just the two of us, Thing1 and I would have one of those weird relationships where the kid takes care of the emotionally unstable mother.
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