The happy Mickey watcher turned into the...well...other kind of kid 1/2 way back from our walk to Tim's about 9:30. He wanted to go one way so we could walk up the slippery path like Diego on an iceberg (apparently). Of course we went his way but half way up the block he wanted to go the other way. I said no. He screamed and carried on. I continued to say no. He continued to scream. Eventually he walked along beside me, holding my hand lovingly, screaming "I am not a cranky boy! I am HAPPY!" as tears streamed down his face. He didn't want to be carried. He didn't want to go slower or faster or well anything...he just wanted the whole neighbourhood to know he was not cranky.
Then I did some reflecting, 9:30 is in fact early Saturday morning to be arriving home from Tims but it was also 4 1/2 hours after the last dose of tylenol. My mistake.
He is awake now cuddled on the couch watching a bit of caillou and drinking a bit of warm milk. His leg is aching. He is feverish. Poor little dude.
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