Sick Boy




Woken up this morning at 5.30am by William, who curled up into my back, wouldn't speak a word and refused to go back to his own bed. He wouldn't eat anything for breakfast no matter how much we coaxed and cajoled and hid himself under the table for the duration.

Typically, it was the one day that I'd arranged to go Christmas wreath-making with Sonya, something that had been in the diary for weeks. I was really looking forward to it and had arranged for the boys to go this extra day to nursery so I could make the morning. Not sure William was genuinely ill, I was blisteringly unsympathetic.

Finally, after he projectile vomited his Ribena onto the bathroom floor, I realised I was being horrible and he was genuinely ill. Then to add insult to injury James threw Rabbit into the vomit.....you can imagine the rest...

What to do? I felt so selfish, but really wanted to make my wreath, and in my heart of hearts I knew I should keep William at home. Eventually I compromised, Will rallied after a dose of Calpol so I dropped them both at nursery and went off to Newbury for a very happy morning's wreath-making. Great fun and I ended up with a fabulous creation made of a heady mix of eucalyptus leaves and guinea fowl feathers with cinnamon sticks, star anise and dried orange slices! Love it.

Then shot off back to Hungerford to pick up a ghostly William. He slept from 1.30pm - 4.00pm, and woke up in time to collect James (who'd been brilliant, happily playing at nursery all day).

So my conscience has recovered somewhat...and hopefully tomorrow will bring a healthier day.

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