Poor Baby...

Daddy is a very busy man.
He can't afford to be sick.
And unlike what some men have claimed, he does get sick.
So if I'm sick, no visits until I'm completely well.

Except this time I didn't know I was sick. Well, I wasn't sick yet. But I was getting sick. And now I am sick. Sore throat, elevated temperature, no appetite, creepy-crawly skin...

Two problems.

Problem #1: Tomorrow (Thursday) I was supposed to head up north for my mom's 90th birthday party. The plan was to split the trip, stop half-way at a friend's, arrive at my final destination on Friday afternoon, be there for a family party on Saturday, and head back down on Sunday. Except that this morning I woke up sick and if I don't go my parents will be ever so disappointed and my sister will believe I did it on purpose.

Solution: put off the trip until Friday and hope to be better, at which point I'll drive all the way up at one shot. The question is whether I have the cold that lasts 2-3 days or 2-3 weeks.

Problem #2: I am not supposed to entertain the sadist if I'm sick. Or even not fully well. And given that I am sick today, I was obviously quite contagious yesterday.

Baby feels very guilty.

Solution: there is none. Although I did confess my sin.

Happily, despite all his bluster, my Daddy is a very reasonable man. It wasn't my fault, he said. I couldn't have known. And I should keep him informed of my travel plans.

And now I do feel like a snuggly Baby, happy and cozy and cared for even though there really isn't anything he can do for me.

But it feels like he is.
It feels as if he is warming my soup
and making my tea
and will,
tonight,
tuck me into my bed.

I love you, Daddy.