Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Coughs and Promises

Last week our family got hit with one of those colds- nothing terrible, just the kind where you feel a little rundown and it often seems you're sporting as many bodily fluids on your outside as you have on your inside.  In other words, we were all very, very pretty.

At this point, we're mostly over it, except for a few lingering sniffles and sore throats, plus I'm noticing less mouth breathing and glazed expressions both in our children and in the mirror.

Except, that is, for Caedmon.  

Poor Cade.  I don't know if it's that his lungs are smaller, or that he's just more prone to these things, but he cannot seem to shake this cough.  This means he had to miss preschool again today, and if someone could please make him see reason that would be great, as my explanation of "You can't go to preschool when you're coughing 'til you dry heave" seemed to carry no weight with him.

There are short periods where The Cough leaves him in peace, lulling me into false hopes of "We're finally over this!  Time to wash all the bedding!  I can replace everyone's toothbrushes!  Let's have a knob- and handle-disinfectant party!"  Then he starts coughing until he's staggering around the house clutching his sore transverse abdominals.  That's how we wound up here:
I call this one "Picnic in the Bathroom."  Because it was a picnic.  In the bathroom.
What, you don't eat your lunch within feet of the toilet?  I'm sorry your life is so provincial.  We Crislers have our toast while enjoying a nice steam from the hot shower I will only run for two minutes because not even a sick kid can impel me waste water and cents.  It was still enough to generate a semi-tropical environment, especially with the space heater helping things out and bumping up the temp.  We enjoyed an almost cough-free thirty minutes.  Worth it.

As of now, I haven't heard Caedmon cough in nearly an hour, causing him to repeatedly walk in here, lean against me beseechingly, and attempt to wrangle a promise from me that I will let him attend preschool tomorrow.  He seemed to think his announcement that, "And if you let me go, I'll wash my hands every time I walk by the bathroom at preschool!  With soap!" was going to clinch the deal.  I'm thinking of adding a rider to this contract along the lines of "And I'll shower every day, even if I think I don't need it, especially if I think I don't need it, and I'll hug my mother every day, too, and I'll start paying attention when I pee and for the love of God AIM," but that last one makes me realize I've floated off into fantasy land, and I would do well to agree to hand-washing with soap- it's changed the world before, hasn't it?



  1. I hope he is over this extreme cough! I feel such sympathy in these situations. Sympathy for the parents.

    You should get that promise to shower every day in writing, and then haul it out when you really need it, in the pre-teen and teen years.

  2. Poor little guy! But eating that close to the toilet. . .hmmmm. . .let's just say mine is NOT clean enough for that!


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