You got sick yesterday.
When I got you up, your nose was a crusty green (you didn’t mind until I tried to clean it for you.)
You didn’t eat as much breakfast as usual.
You obviously didn’t feel good.
Daddy wasn’t sure what to do. I had an important meeting I needed to attend, but you’re more important than events or meetings.
(Even if it’s an event with the governor.)
I delayed leaving the house, but you never seemed to get better or worse.
Finally, I took you to daycare. Almost an hour later, when I was an hour’s drive away, the sitter called to say you weren’t well, and she was worried about you. An hour later, you weren’t getting any better.
Daddy struggled with what to do — be with my sick baby, or fulfill the responsibilities of my job.
Both of your grandfathers were raised in a time when a man’s job defined who he was. One was a minister and one a career military officer. Both of them placed a very high emphasis on their jobs.
I’m not like your grandfathers.
So daddy called a coworker to come help, and I left the event (and the governor) to pick you up.
You’re not a very fussy baby, but you obviously weren’t feeling very good.
At 11 p.m. your temperature was 102.5.
When you woke up at 4:30 a.m., your temperature was down to around 100.
Mommy took you to the doctor today, and we learned you had ear infections in both ears.
Daddy also learned you’re more important than the governor or anyone else.