The more children you have, the more chance that you’ll spend part of your holiday holed up in your accommodation, nursing one who has succumbed to a holiday bug. A visiting virus, imported by another holiday maker, shared in the pool, or just in passing. And so it has been today, with Tigerboy having a raging temperature and general misery.
There’s nothing hugely wrong with him. It may even turn out that he’s finally sprouting teeth. But today he has needed lots of milk, turned down most solid food and wanted to sleep on me. Which means I’ve stayed in, let down smallest who had been promised swimming and mainly crocheted and read.
Now off course, he’s wide awake. Not particularly better, but not overly ill. I suspect I’m in for a night of very little sleep.
Tomorrow I’m hoping the forecast blizzards hold off till I’m done driving. Driving in blizzards to get here wasn’t much fun. I don’t need to reverse the experience to balance out the week.
Remind me again of the point of holidays?