A Lot of That Going Around

The Boy has had a bad cough lately. We had it checked and turns out he's either got bronchitis or walking pneumonia. He's on medicine to knock out the infection and hopefully he'll feel better when we leave later this week to go to Florida (another business trip for me; alas, no movies).

Last week I'd noticed a few nights in a row that he was running a fever around bed-time. One afternoon around supper time he complained to me that he wasn't feeling very good, gave instructions to take his temperature (to see how sick he was) and presented his own diagnosis.

Boy: I think I have the chicken pops.

Open Invitations

I went away for a brief business trip to the Big Smoke. Business trips. Boring presentations. Except this time, I was the one giving the presentation. I decided rather than do the usual boring old thing, I'd show a movie, my home-made kind rendered from my own PC.  It was, in the words of one who saw it, entertaining and inspiring. I was pleased. Part of the middle segment was introduced, sort of, by the Boy. I filmed him on the back deck against the flower box saying, "And now for a brief NQI criteria review". Well, what actually came out was:

Boy: And now a kick I criterey view.

When I got home the next afternoon, flushed with my own success, I picked the Boy up from Daycare and told him how everybody oohed and ahhed about his part of the movie and that people all over the room were saying how cute he was.

Boy: Well, why don't they come and visit me?

Scores!

There's no hockey this year, which somehow makes the football playoffs more significant. Because once the football is all over, there's just going to be wall-to-wall NBA.

Yuck.

The two semi-finals were held a weekend or so ago and I tried to get the Boy a bit interested. I told him who was playing and asked him who he thought would win. He picked the Eagles and the Steelers. He got one right.

In that he spent the afternoon watching Treehouse TV upstairs, my plan to spend the day with him watching the game didn't exactly work. I would give him some updates during the game when the Eagles scored (the late game was on too late). I told him the final results the next morning.

Boy: So are the Eagles going to play the SuperGoal?

A Yen for Sony

My mom says it was those darn Joneses, the ones you're always trying to keep up with. On New Year's Eve we visited with our former neighbours who have moved onto (and into) a much grander house. We had the tour, ate pizza (and our livers) and played PlayStation, which was a great time. I said if the Boy says he liked it, I'd get one. He did, so I did. I've since wondered if I did the right thing. I since wondered, what the heck was I thinking. Every waking moment, the Boy is either playing PlayStation or asking to play PlayStation. Okay, that's a bit of an exageration. And you should know (whoever you are) that I enjoy playing it as well. But tonight, anxious for a bit of a break, I said no to the inevitable PlayStation request.
Boy: But Daddy! My hands are really in the mood to play!

Again, Suddenly from the Back Seat....

Boy: Daddy? When I'm a granddad ... will you be dead?

Nocturnal Emissions.

In the middle of the night I was awakened either by coughing in the next room or the urge to go pee ... one of the two. It was the Boy who was doing the coughing and I was a little alarmed since when he gets sick and throws up, it is usually preceded by a round of coughing similar to what I was hearing. I got up and went around the corner to look into his room. He looked peaceful enough laying there. He looked asleep. Until he said:
Boy: Daddy, what are you doing there?
Me: I was just checking to see if you were okay. Do you feel sick?
Boy (getting up and coming over to see me) : No. I mean, maybe yes. I have drips coming from my eyes and I'm not even sad.