There are days that Miles will feign illness to get out of undesirable activities, saying things like “I don’t feel good” or “My tummy hurts” to avoid baths, sitting down to dinner, going to school, going to bed…you get the picture. And then there are those rare days where Miles truly doesn’t feel well. The difference? On the latter days, Miles’s complaint isn’t centered on a single activity — he is unwilling to do anything.
Today was one of those days. Fretful and and inconsolable in the night, then lethargic from the moment he woke up, Miles has spent the last two days at home, coming downstairs only to stumble over to the couch and pull a blanket over him. Miles may have a better understanding of what “sick” looks like now, but that doesn’t make it any easier for us to see the poor guy struggle through an illness.
Speaking of struggling, when I came home from trivia tonight, I found Miles asleep in our bed. “What’s the sleeping plan tonight?” I asked Jaclyn, knowing that only one of us could fit into the bed unless we moved Miles to his room (something we wanted to avoid in the hope he would just sleep through the night).
“Oh,” she replied. “You can sleep with Miles tonight.”
Suddenly my hope that Miles would rest peacefully turned into a desperate prayer.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 