We just can’t seem to get well and stay well this holiday season. Vic had a low-grade temperature at school on Wednesday and he’s got a full-blown one today. Sabs gave him some Motrin before he left for work this morning and it’s come down and he’s acting pretty normal if a little tired around the edges. Julien’s nose is still running from the cold he had last week and I can’t shake the creeping crud from the cold I came down with almost two weeks ago.
Mom says I’ve got bronchitis now. Me, I’m just sick of the hacking cough and feeling like my lungs are going to crawl out of my chest when I do. She came over last night and made us dinner though which was very appreciated. She also cleaned up afterward so my kitchen is nice and clean and there’s a pretty plant on the table and cake to enjoy with hot cocoa or tea. Dad wrestled with the tree stand and got our tree up so we can decorate a little bit later. Vic is so very very excited about the tree and has taken responsibility all on his own for keeping it watered.
Sick as he is, once the Motrin took effect he got up out of bed, wandered into the living room and informed me very solemnly that it was “time to check on his plants”. He hunkered down frog-like to check the water level in the stand, then stood up and turned to me again, with that same very serious look on his face to tell me that the tree was just fine, had plenty of water and we’d check again later. Then he sighed and smiled, face all alight, eyes shining. “Mama, I love our tree. I want it to stay forever.”
I started to try to plant the seed of the idea that the tree was going to have to leave the house eventually, but he was very resistant so I opted not to push it for now. The disillusionment of a cut tree can come later. For now, I’ll let him enjoy nurturing it while it lasts.