When Elliott woke up three times last night feeling warm – I gave him some Tylenol. No coughing, sneezing, running nose, vomiting, diarrhea and was still playing, talking, eating and drinking with a temp of 100.7 – I figure it’s just a teething fever, right?
Wrong. By 2:30, when I took him to have the pediatrician say, “Yes, that’s a teething fever, he can go to day care.,” he was a roasted 103.7. Clearly not a low grade fever. But other than being a little less rough an tumble – we still don’t know what the problem is.
The one upside to today? He laid on my office papasan with a blanket on his lap. He would pull it over his face, wait, then yank it back down while string straight at me. It took a few turns before I could smell what the rock was cooking. “Peekaboo, woman!! Ask me where I am, then proclaim, ‘There he is!’”
So we played. He led the game and I shouted along. It was neat to see him acting things out, even if he was sick as a dog.
