Round Two

Remember how Cael was sick?

Remember how Cael got better?

Remember how Graham never caught it?

Strike that last part.

Graham is chubby knee-deep in high fevers and children's ibuprofen.  When he woke from his nap yesterday looking very flushed and hot to the touch, I knew that he was headed down the same path his brother had walked.  But just as most illnesses seem to with my boys, Graham is handling it with slightly more spirit yet much tougher symptoms.

Those symptoms roused me out of bed last night at 3:30am, only to discover that all of the lights were on in my previously dark house.  When I stumbled into the living room, I found my Bubba asleep and red-faced on the couch, the refrigerator door open in the kitchen and beeping in protest.  Wanting to move him back to bed, he opened his eyes and told me that he had "frown up in his bed" and had no idea where he was, likely a product of the 104 degree fever he was sporting.

So this time it's Graham's turn to snuggle into my bed and drown his sorrows in ice-cold Gatorade and "The Incredibles".  We did venture out of the house to see the doctor and for Mommy to vote at the local Catholic church.  After I filled out my ballot, Graham made sure to let all of the voting volunteers know that "Mommy voted for Jesus", while pointing to a large oil painting in the room.

If only Jesus could be President.  There would be no homelessness, joblessness, and just maybe, no more fevers for my sweet boys.