My two year old caught a cold last week.
One of the down sides of not putting my kids into a daycare, is that they don’t build up a resistance to myriad of germs and diseases being passed around daycares. Then again, I’m not exactly a clean freak, so I think he’s adequately exposed to all kinds of nasty stuff. For example, I’ve often found him playing in the cat litter. Then there was that other time he ate a live cockroach. Anyway, when Callum gets sick, he REALLY gets sick.
During the worst of it, he’d stumble over to me wanting a cuddle, arms outstretched, coughing and spluttering, sobbing and crying,
“Mummy mummy. Mouth paaaain. Help help!”
Ooooh man, it would completely break my heart.
Then he started to lose his voice. He’d squeak like a little frog.
It was sooo cute.
And I admit, I thoroughly enjoyed the couple of days of QUIET.
Our little house was free from shouting. Free from singing made-up songs. The endless chatter. The animal noises. The vehicle sound effects. And free from the running commentary of everyday activities. It was bliss. Sigh. Too bad it only lasted a couple of days.