The Boy’s Hot Time

Night before last, about 9:30, I caught The Boy checking his glucose — something I don’t often see him doing without prompting.

“What’s your level?” I asked him.

He looked. “212... I figured it would be high, I think I’m sick.”

Yipe. I did the usual parental feel the forehead thing; this time it was warm. “Yeah, you feel hot,” I said. “You might want to go to bed.” And that’s just what he did, confirming to me that he truly was sick... he would have just shook his head at me otherwise.

One thing about The Boy: when he gets a fever, it spikes up pretty quickly. By the time we got him some tylenol and found a thermometer, he was around 103. The tylenol didn’t seem to be helping, so we gave him some ibuprofen and it came down overnight. Mrs. Fetched and I swapped beds with Daughter Dearest, in the other upstairs bedroom, so she could check on him through the night.

Morning came, she took him to the doctor, who said he has strep throat. Seems like we get hit with that more often than the flu.

We had choir practice last night, so after work I spent a fruitless hour at a hobby store looking for bookbinding supplies then went straight to the church. Afterwards, I came home with DD to an empty FAR Manor — The Boy and M.A.E. were nowhere to be found. Whatever... I hadn’t eaten supper, and it was like 9:30, so I was in no frame of mind to give it much thought. Mrs. Fetched was chatterboxing with some of the other choir ladies, and got in about 10:30. She immediately called his smellphone, get the voicemail, and left him a message telling him to not come home (which pretty much completes Project Honey I’m Home without my help). When you stay up most of the night taking care of someone, it’s understandable if you get cheesed when that someone takes off instead of resting up.

I hope he doesn’t infect M.A.E. and all his friends. Running around loose when you’re sick doesn’t strike me as a very intelligent thing to do.