“I’m not getting out of bed until Mommy comes back with a thermometer.” She groaned.
“Is she making ultimatums now?” I thought. Then I realized, Annie was not in the corner getting Reggie out of her pajamas. “Hmm” was my clever retort.
Regina decided to clarify things for me, “Wydia’s not feeling good Daddy.” I could tell; she looked miserable.
Annie squeezed past me, popped a thermometer into Lydia’s mouth and grabbed Reg. I took the opportunity to finish brushing my teeth and waited for the thermometer to beep. A second later Annie called out from around the corner, “102. Yep, she’s in for the day.”
“Well this changes my plans. I’ll message her teacher.”
“Cool, I’ll get Tiny here breakfasted, then I’m out the door.”
“Coward.”
“Sorry! My job calls to me!”
“Ugh.”
Lyd interjected, “May I go downstairs and play on my Kindle?”
“Nope, you are laying back down and you will sleep as late as you possibly can.”
“Okay.” She didn’t put up a fuss…dang. She must be sick. Two hours later she stumbled downstairs; I took her temp again, not good. Breakfast was followed by medicine. Go chill on the couch sweetie. And me? I don’t think I’ll get in much writing today. Darn.
Reg was loving the novelty of Lydia’s illness, at first. She started out as my assistant, nursing Lydia. Unfortunately she put the “ass” in assistant and quickly developed the bedside manner of a rhinoceros. Forcing “medicine” upon Lydia, forcing tea cups upon her. Not a thing about her was gentle, even her attempts at affection ended with Lydia being poked or hurt.
Lunch time! Let’s check your temperature again! Still not good. I put on another movie and did some kitchen work. Twenty minutes later when I came back in, she looked like hell. “How are you feeling Hun?”
“Warm and Hot. I want to take off my shirt but I want to stay snuggled in the blanket.” She was hot to the touch. The temperature this time caused me to work at maintaining my composure, it was awfully high and she was staring at me. I went to the basement and dug out a blue chamois-style personal cooling towel. That, in combination with more fever medicine kept her closer to the safe zone. By this time, Regina was officially fed up with Lydia being sick. The attention being paid to Lyd was just too much. This fever had a lot of fight left in it. By bedtime, Annie and I had pretty much decided that Lyd was staying Home again tomorrow.
The next morning, the thermometer confirmed she was in for another day. Social media was telling me that there was a bug working its way through the school. “Wait it out” seemed to be the consensus. At Breakfast, “Daughters! You two have an important task to work on as you halfheartedly pick at your oatmeal and while you…eat your waffle like it’s…corn on the cob.” (Huh? How?) “Where was I? A movie! You two need to pick a movie that you BOTH want to watch!
“Pinocchio.”
“Yeah, Pinocchio.”
The devil on my shoulder whispered, “Ever Loving. It’s a great movie, but we’ve watched it five times over the last six days! Give it a break! Maybe you can override the decision and pick something on your own. You run this house. Own it!”
Then the angel on my other shoulder spoke, “Are you stupid? Did you not notice what just happened? They made a unanimous decision, pretty much instantly! You are about to take this moment and grind your boot heel into it. Hell No! If the movie is going to irritate you that much, go do busy work in another room while these two watch the movie together and get along the way you imagined they would get along when Annie was pregnant with Reggie. Who cares what the movie is? If you get something done without being interrupted, then you owe that puppet big time! Slap in the movie, and fold some laundry you sexy man!”
“Thank you! I am kinda sexy, aren’t I?
“Of course.”
“Who are you talking to Daddy?”
“Uh, no one Hun. So…who wants to watch Pinocchio?!?”
“Yay!!!”
The day wore on, and on and on. Between Lydia needing to be nursed and a toddler who was angry that she too was not being nursed, I was starting to look like I was fed through giant clock gears. The best (haha! Yeah, “best”) part of the day happened five minutes after lunch. “I have to go to the potty!” she yelled.
“Oh boy.” I thought, “Medicine’s messing with her bowels, something wicked this way comes.
“Daddy?” She said weakly.
“Here we go.” I dropped my dish towel on the counter and made my way to the bathroom.
“Widdie threw up.” Reggie mumbled.
Incredulously I replied, “What?” as I rounded the corner and slammed on the brakes so hard I nearly fell forward into the half-digested layer of chicken soup covering the bathroom floor. “Lyd? What happened? Are you okay?”
“I puked.” She said, “I tried to make it, but couldn’t.” I could see the stuff was dripping from her hands, apparently she made an attempt to cover her mouth to stop it from coming out. I couldn’t get to her. Our long narrow bathroom floor was a minefield of puke. The only way I could get to her was by wiping my way to her, “Dad? Am I in trouble?”
“In trouble?” I laughed. “Why would you be in trouble?” as I tossed another chunky kitchen wipe into the trash bin.
“Because I didn’t make the toilet.”
“Sweetie! You’re sick, you puked! That’s what sick people do! I’m actually happy!”
“About what?”
“I’m happy because I’m guessing or rather hoping you got the bad stuff out of you. Do you feel better?”
“Much better!”
“Then I’m happy you are feeling better! I’m also happy that you did this on a tile floor and NOT on the carpet. So no. You are absolutely not in trouble.”
All this time Regina was trying to nudge her way into the bathroom to have a better view of what Lydia did. I was skillfully blocking her with my body as I continued wiping.
She gave up on getting past me. She tapped my shoulder, “Daddy? Daddy? Daddy? Daaaaaaddy?” She shouted.
“What is it?”
I have to wear my dress. I need you to help me.”
“Can it wait?” I handed Lyd a kitchen wipe for her hands
“No, I have to wear it now.”
“Then you are out of luck Hun.”
“DADDY!”
“No!”
“Fine. I do it myself.”
“Please do, and please take several minutes trying!”
A few seconds later she declared, “Look! I did it myself!”
“That’s, so, awesome Reg! So flippin’ awesome.” I turned back to my impromptu sprinkler, “Lean over the toilet Lydie, can you get any more out?”
“Nope.”
“Good, let’s get you cleaned up.”
That’s all it took apparently. The sparkle was coming back to her eyes. The typical tone of enthusiasm, eagerness and curiosity was returning. Her fever broke. One more night of rest and I ought to have my daughter back
As I was writing this, Lyd was at school and Reggie was upstairs napping. That’s when I heard a coughing fit over the baby monitor.
@#%&!