Poor Finn has been waking up THROUGHOUT the night. And drooling again. A constant line of slimy saliva dribbles down his chin and onto anything below him. Tooth Eight: where are you, buddy? Complete your torture!
But that’s not all: last night and earlier today he also had a low-grade fever, and I’ve assumed that the two are connected. But then again, Keith’s been sick with something for the last few days… is he the culprit?
Or perhaps it’s got something to do with both of us. We did, after all, go back to work today, leaving him after a long summer of, well, very-togetherness. Could the stress of the change be manifesting itself physically?
Maybe it’s just something he picked up somewhere from one of the EIGHTEEN MILLION things he puts into his mouth daily…
At music class, he didn’t exactly PLAY his instruments:
Plus, I’ve been twice to those “germ pits” I swore I’d let never him enjoy:
Is child-rearing always filled with such mysteries — and guilt?