My husband helped run a March Break Sports Camp, which our son attended. They brought home some truly wonderful father/son memories but also, some weird bronchial virus.
A week later Avery caught it. Her soft voice was soon replaced by what we call her “Jazz Singer” voice. My initial fear was that she had Cholera. What? She had been playing in the yard, frolicking and splashing in stagnant pond water. I thought maybe she had ventilated some bacteria. Sigh. I tend to jump to the most extreme circumstances.
So whenever Avery is sick, we follow protocol. Daddy ships out of our bedroom and Avery moves in with me, and I assemble the “Medi Ready Over-Night Kit” — a plastic shoebox filled with supplies including: pre-dosed meds (because who can read the dosage in the middle of the night?), pen and paper to write down when meds were given and how much, water and/or Jello or any other hydration tools, a thermometer, a face cloth, Vaseline for dry lips and whatever else. The shoe box is an easy place to keep everything together, bedside. If I’d taken the photo earlier, you’d have also seen a Cadbury’s Easter Cream Egg (sustenance for the caregiver).
Her eyes were rolling back in her head and she could barely
move yet despite her weakened and delirious state, she still found the strength
to roll over, grab her mother’s left boob and whisper in her Jazz Singer voice, “Honk, honk.”
She IS a Thornbury, through and through; always going for the joke, no matter what. Dear god I love this child.
Know who else loves her? Roger. Our beloved pooch. He’s been by Avery’s side since she got sick. Ever watchful, always close.
We love you Roger. Thanks for watching over our funny girl. Better look out though dude, she’s starting to feel better and it looks like she’s getting ready to give you her trademark, “Honk, Honk” treatment….
