The Things I Allow

...only when the child has a 102 temperature and is feeling puny and miserable.

1.  "H."
Yes, that's all she says when she really means, "Mom, will you please hold my hand?"  And I obey.

2.  Refusal to eat anything.  Anything.  Except one bowl of Life Cereal and finally, after a couple days, a bean burrito.  Not just any bean burrito.  She won't eat one that I make, even though I do have the ingredients handy.  It has to be from good ole' Taco Cabana.

3.  Bright blue Gatorade as regular sustenance.  That hospital stay for dehydration when she was 13 months old and had to be held down for a full hour while they searched for a usable vein for the IV has me sufficiently scarred into making sure she has something that she will drink.  ANYTHING.  By the way, the apple juice that comes in a cute little juice box is delicious, but the kind that comes in a Capri Sun package is unpalatable.  Seriously, this girl is pushing her luck.

4.  The bed I usually share with my husband, instead shared with my clingy, hot, whiny one.  I don't sleep so well.  The husband who's been kicked out doesn't sleep so well.  The girl doesn't even sleep so well.  But, still, she gets her way.

Here's hoping all this silliness ends today and that she feels lovely and fully capable of eating something I prepare and using complete sentences.