Samantha stayed home with a fever today.
No, no. Save your “aw’s” and “poor baby’s”. She is full of some mysterious energy and has become quite expressive -- quite. Apparently a fever can jump start a child’s ability to communicate. Here are some of the conversations we’ve had over the last two days (keep in mind she’s only two):
Me: “Sweetie, let’s go inside and I’ll give you some medicine so you’ll feel better.”
Samantha: “No! I don’t want medicine!”
Me: “But it will taste good. Fever medicine tastes much better than nose medicine,” (which is true, by the way.)
Samantha: “No. I’m gonna run away from you!”
Me: “But it will make you feel better.”
Samantha: “No. I’m not gonna take it. No.”
Does this sound like a child who’s feeling badly to you?
Inside, as I prepared the medicine, she said, “I’m not gonna take it. I’m gonna stick my thumb in my mouth like this.” I looked over to see her cross her arms tightly in front of her chest and jam her thumb into her mouth. And frown.
I managed to medicate with the promise of a lollipop, and I got her to agree that it did indeed taste good -- as Mommy promised. (I’m not above “I told-you-so”.)
This morning when Michael went to their room to wake them up, I heard this:
“No! You woke us up, Daddy! Close the door!” It was Samantha.
“That’s right, it’s time to get up,” Michael said cheerfully, apparently not realizing that cheerfulness is wasted on sleepy children.
“No, no! Close the door!” she insisted.
I went in, felt her forehead, and took her temperature: 102.4 degrees. Before I could launch into my morning child-wrangling routine, she said, “I’m going to Grandma’s house today. I’m gonna take Baby Doll. I want to wear a pink dress, and I want Baby Doll to wear a little pink dress, too. I’m gonna wear a diaper.”
“Um, OK.” Apparently fever also gives children the ability to dictate. It’s not that hard to imagine her years from now:
I’m going to Milan today. I’m going to take my assistant. Where’s my iPhone? I want to wear my burgundy dress suit, and tell everyone else to wear business-casual. I’m gonna wear a thong.
After dressing, she said, “Now I’m gonna take my medicine. I’m gonna take my medicine now. I’m gonna drink it all up. Put it in a cup first. I want a vitamin, too.”
Then, “I want to put on my shoes, my white shoes. Mommy, you need to put on your shoes, too. Your brown ones. You forgot. I’m gonna put my white shoes on now. Where are they?”
She went on and on like this, directing the morning routine. Which is why I’m not overly concerned right now as she “rests” at Grandma’s house, enjoying her sick day. If Samantha doesn’t sleep well tonight, I’m sure Grandma will. She has a long day of Princess-pleasing ahead of her.
Current temp: 99 degrees.
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