The oldest is on his second day spiking 104 fever in the evenings...but nothing wrong enough to warrant antibiotics. One is being treated for pneumonia as he coughs on everything and everyone around him. And one is not terribly sick but still pathetic enough to dissolve into tears at the slightest perceived injustice.
I have more paying school work to do this week than ever before in my life. If anyone should cry, it should be me. But that just seems silly. And besides, there's not enough Kleenex for me to join in the boo hoo fray.
No, the real crying is done over one of "my people" put in some forgotten hiding place, a stolen cup from a make-believe tea party, or who owns the purple bear.
This evening was a true mourning event as I took said purple bear and shoved him atop the television, hoping to end the bickering.
Instead, they all ran crying to my husband for anti-mommy support. Covered in crying children, he suddenly said, "That's not crying. Naah. That's a whimper. I was some real angst! Like this..."
At that point, he belted out the loudest, most obnoxiously fake boo hoo I've ever seen.
While Emerson didn't join in, pretty soon, both Amelia and Wyatt were practicing their crying, too.
Down I fell down on my knees in uncontrollable laughter.
I'll take it.
I love this story. And I'm thankful you shared it--and that you felt led to join the High Calling network. Welcome! :)
ReplyDeleteThis post is specially heartwarming to me. Their daddy was wise to do what he did... and the kids knew they weren't really crying... just whimpering. No real pain there...
ReplyDeleteI pray for healing for your children, especially Emerson.
And here's another prayer for you - that you will have enough time (and strength) to finish the schoolwork that you need to do.
Your valentine decor is really beautiful.
Enjoyed the time I spent here at your blogplace.
Sending love wishes your way dear Jennifer.
Love
Lidj