What dreams may come

Anna had a nasty cold this past weekend, approved and Claire caught it yesterday, ambulance only Claire got the bonus fever along with it.  Or maybe it’s a totally different virus and we can look forward to Anna glowing red hot in a few days, phlebologist too.  Poor kids!

When we put her to bed she was feeling warm, but she’d already been dosed with Tylenol, so off she went with a cup of water and instructions to call me if she needed anything.  (at which point Anna piped up with, “What about me?  I’m sick too!”)  Around 11:30 she woke up crying, miserable, and burning up.  Into bed with me she went, with more Tylenol and cool wet wash cloths and lullabyes and back rubbing.  I got her comfy (She was being a total bed hog – I spent the night on the outer 6″ of the mattress curled up with the Little Toaster that Could; Parenthood means not minding sleeping with a little vector of disease breathing all over your face) and settled down, she flung her arm over me and said, “I’m so glad I have my family back!”

Huh?  I have no idea what fever dreams were running through her head.  In the morning, bright-eyed, bushy tailed, and only moderately warm, she told me she dreamed about a fly that ate a frog.  Then Anna had to one-up her by claiming to have dreamed about crickets that ate people.

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