Poor, sick Bug. Hoarse voice, big phlegmy cough, flushed little face. And while I'd never wish one of my kids ill, there is the matter of all the extra cuddles, and I'm not going to lie - I like the extra cuddles. And the "carry me, pwease"s and the warm, heavy head that rests on my shoulder for far longer than he'd ever allow these days, were he feeling well.
"no lunch, mama. teddy so tired."
And this one? Not sick, KNOCKWOOD. (We've got traveling to do next week! To someplace warm! With Chick-fil-a and family!) But you know what she is? A total two year old, all of the sudden. Sassy and dramatic and full of "I do mah hat by mah self!" kind of spunk. Is this a babysized glimpse of 13? Wine! Send wine!