Child has a cold. I nearly typed the number but I do make an effort to disguise, however badly, the real-world identities of the Children and I'm afraid it might give things away if I go on to tell the entire internet that Child [NUMBER] has man-flu.
To be fair, It is congested and has an impressive, barking cough that kept Its sibling hurling Halls cough drops at It all morning yesterday (something I learned when I came home to find the living-room floor covered in paper wrappers). However.
It droops, It oozes around the house - often on the floor because oh. the cold. It just makes. It. so. tired. It lies on the couch and then rolls pathetically down to the carpet since couch lying is so very, very exhausting. Then It whimpers a little about the fact that It has a headache - Oh! a headache! - that means if Its sibling raises a voice even a leetle the pain! Oh! the pain! Mind you, video games don't have any negative effect at all, it's just the piercing tones of Its loved ones.
When I ask if It has taken any of the cold medicine that I made a special trip to purchase It informs me, in a low, almost inaudible murmur, that no... It hasn't because... it's just so... difficult... to heat up... water in... the.... microwave. Then it perks up remarkably when I mention that honey can be added to said medicine and hops happily out to squeeze half a bear's worth into the mug.
This morning It puddled itself sadly in the hall, scrunched as well as It could (given its long and ungainly limbs) into a small, blanket covered ball. I asked with reasonable kindness if It was feeling any better and, when It answered with Its last croak that no, not really, It wasn't, I kindly wrote It a note asking that It be released from volley ball and push ups. I didn't even harass it for blocking access to the bathroom because I'm a loving mother and even man-flu deserves some sympathy.
It better not give it to me though.