Sick Day

So last weekend was one for the books. Lincoln pulled off a 104 degree fever. For those keeping score at home, that is exactly .1 degrees below the panic point according to the doctor we took him to.

There were some pros to him being so hot. Instead of using an electric blanket to warm up the bed, we just took Lincoln and passed him a couple of times over the sheets, and they were nice and warm.

Con-wise, he was pretty much a brute all day long. Plus, I thought sick kids slept longer. Not Lincoln, he slept less. Also, he was constipated like none other, and on top of that had cancors breaking out all over his tougue.

He was much happier on Sunday, but that night was a nightmare -- for me, and probably for him. I slept a grand total of 2 hours. I finally got to bed at midnight, and at 2, I wake up to find Lincoln sleeping next to me, in my sleep deprived state, I assumed he was falling off the bed, and I grabbed him, that woke him up, so then he just kicked me the rest of the night until I finally got up with him.

Monday at school was pretty hard, and I decided that I had to take a sick day just to recover from the weekend. If I have any more weekends like this, I'm going to need that social security check the government just told me about way before I'm 65.