Still Sick (Cough, Hack)

You and I are just on the tail end of our colds, and Robert is just starting it. You sound like a small Darth Vader when you're sleeping because your nose is still a little plugged up. I'm sure I sound like a bigger version. And you're Dad will be sounding the same in about a week.

Night before last I went into your room at 1 am because you were crying and not going back to sleep. I lay down with you on your bed and eventually we both went to sleep. In the morning I woke up and didn't want to wake you but I was uncomfortable so eventually I started moving, trying to be quiet and careful. When I was sitting up, I looked for you in the mound of covers on the bed and, after a few moments, figured out you weren't in them. I tore into our room and there you were, in our bed, under our covers, snoozing away happily and sounding like a mini Darth Vader. Arghhhh. Robert said you'd been there since about 3am. And I was scrunched up in a pretzel on your bed during that time. Normally I don't leave the door to your room open when I go in but I did that night. NEVER again.

You love the "Wheels on the Bus" song, even more now that you know how to do some of the hand motions to it. You ask for "La la" when you want a song from us, and "La la bus" when you want the Bus song, and even that has shortened to "La bus". Your Dad says it must be a French bus, ha ha. I added on a verse about "The Dad on the bus" that has the Dad saying "Don't touch that" all over town, and a scolding finger goes with it. You love that, and now ask for "La bus dada". Robert then added a verse where "The Mother on the bus says 'that's okay'" all over town with a shoulder shrug. You can see the two warring parental philosophies right there.

I have since added verses for Dad about making waffles, laughing like a pirate, and tickling. For Mom, we have "Put that back", shhhhhhh baby, and who's my pretty child.