Caroline has Influenza A, and her main symptom is a fever. She otherwise seems pretty ok. But with a days-long fever comes some quirks and intolerance for... life.
Friday night, her fever was very high, so I sat by her bed in the dark and put cool washcloths on her head. After a long time of quiet and rest, I thought she was finally asleep. She proved me wrong when she turned to me very suddenly and shrieked, "What are we going to do about Reuben's breath?! That dog's mouth stinks. I can't take it. We have to start brushing his teeth or something."
When I told her Reuben wasn't even upstairs with us, and she should go back to sleep, she said, "I know. But the disgusting memory is in my brain, and I can't get rid of it. I can't sleep until we have a plan for the stink."
Monday she was laying on the couch in a flu-ish malaise, and she wanted to go upstairs. I told her she could go up if she wanted to.
She asked me to carry her.
I laughed, a little surprised, and started to deny that request when she interrupted me with, "Mama, I know what you are going to say. I have two legs. They work. And there are two legs and they do work, most of the time. But I have a fever, and that means my legs have a fever. So if you could just carry me this one time, that would be great."
I stared at her.
"Also, I love you, Mama."
We sent an email to her teacher explaining that she would likely be out most of this week, and she requested I include a message just from her.
"M-, I miss you. I hope I'm better soon so I can see you at my class. I like you better than the TV. And you smell better too."