Calvin is home sick today, again, for the third day in a row. He's had a fever and a little bit of a cough, but no other symptoms. He actually is one of the cheeriest sick kids I've ever met. When you ask how he feels, he says, "Great!" He's been eating fine and was literally break dancing on the floor the other day (I think thanks to a nice dose of Tylenol), but still the fever, so he's home.
At age 6, I think he is finally catching on that this sick-day thing is a pretty good deal. On Tuesday night, he started with the fever, so I told him he probably wouldn't go to school the next day. Still, he was up at 7, got himself dressed and came into our room, ready to go. I reminded him he wasn't going to school, and he said, pouting a bit, "But Wednesday is my favorite day of all. We have P.E.!" And, "Someone in my class, Alexandra, is having a birthday." I had forgotten these are some of the social highlights of a 6-year-old's schedule. But still, I held my ground, and home he stayed.
By last night, after he had spent hours playing with his Christmas toys, reading Star Wars books, playing card games with Grammy, watching WAY too much TV, and playing on the computer, he said, "It's kinda fun to be sick." Uh-oh.
Here he is during a hot game of the classic, age-old Redskins/Cowboys checkers. (I had to be the Cowboys, of course.)
A week ago, Calvin was in good shape, health-wise, so Noah took him skiing for the first time. They took a day trip to West Virginia and signed up for a little father-son class. Noah was pretty excited. I was worried Calvin would hate it and they would both be disappointed. But Noah said they both had tons of fun and Calvin did great. He didn't mind when he fell a few times, and even enjoyed doing "banana peels," as their instructor called them (which is just a nice phrase for when your skis slip out from under you and you fall on your tush.) And now Calvin has been downhill skiing exactly as many times as I have, and is probably way better at it.
Here they are: