I hate headaches. They ruin my days; they spend my nights. They make the sun my enemy and the light my adversary.
I hate headaches. They make me angry and short-tempered. I become a do-nothing.
I hate headaches. They suck.
"Daddy, will you shave your head bald again, so we can laugh at you?"
Days roll into days around here. The temperature is cooling - it has been in the low 60s here for the past few days. And that's just plain chilly. Sickness sometimes is the only thing that separates one day from the next. Sophie came into our bedroom the other night, stood over the bed, and then proceeded to projectile vomit, bringing latent fears of the Exorcist to life.
The boy has a boil on his upper thigh. It was lanced on Sunday and he's been put on antibiotics. We call him Baby Job now. It's our version of Baby Einstein.