On Sunday morning, when Sandy got Ezra out of bed, he said he sounded funny, like he was about to throw up. An hour later, we were sitting on a chair in the living room reading books, when Ezra suddenly wiggled out of my lap and onto the floor. Looking up at me helplessly, he unleashed a fury of regurgitation onto our Poäng like I have never seen from him. In fact, I had only just last week said to someone, because I am a fate-tempting idiot, “Ezra’s never really had a throwing up sickness.”
Before I had Ezra, I worried that I was going to be alarmist about illnesses. I have always been a bit of a hypochondriac, and I feared that I would find myself whisking him off to the emergency room at the first sign of a cold. Turns out, I’m kind of the opposite.
“He’s fine!” I proclaimed throughout the day on Sunday. “100.5? That’s not even a real fever!” The truth is, we had a nice afternoon, and though he seemed a bit tired, he didn’t throw up again and went to bed just fine. OK, maybe he did have a little diarrhea, but it was nothing.
Monday morning, then, I was ready to move on. “He’s fine! 100.1 is basically 99, and that’s totally not a fever!” I’m embarrassed to say that despite the fact that 100.1 is not 99, and is actually a fever, I decided to pack him up and take him to the library for storytime. “I’ll hold him on my lap the whole time,” I told myself. “He’s totally not contagious, though. Not sick at all.”
The thing is, Ezra usually won’t have anything to do with my lap during storytime. Last week he actually got up, looked around the room, and chose a new mom and went and sat in her lap (along with her baby). So, the very fact that he wanted to snuggle close should have been a sign. Still, it wasn’t until all the other kids got up to dance along with a Mother Goose rhyme and my poor baby instead flung himself facedown on the floor that I finally admitted to myself: he was sick.
Of course, by the time I came to terms with it, it was over for real. He woke up from his nap on Monday refreshed, fever-free, and ready to go. Today: cheerful and energetic. Whatever it was, it wasn’t bad.
Citizens of Chicago, please nevertheless accept my deepest apologies, and sincere promise that the next time Ezra is vomiting and feverish I will not take him to the library, grocery store, or sundry other public locations.