Trouble

The sweetest thing is when your seven-year-old says, “Sorry I’m being so much trouble,” as you change the bedding and clean him up after the second round of vomiting. He was relieved to find out that being sick wasn’t actually his fault. Though it also made me a little sad, because I think he’s had too much this past year of us and his teachers trying to coax / teach him to behave appropriately for school. He has outright forbidden us to say, “Be careful,” because he hates the phrase so much. Poor munchkin.

(We had a rough night, with him up and dry heaving every hour or so, but he eventually did fall into a deeper sleep around 4 a.m., and is feeling fine this morning. We’ll see how the day goes. I may be a bit incoherent.)

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