Sick Boy

My poor little guy has been sick since Sunday. This is his third round of this crappy flu/cold that's going around. He has a horrible cough that makes my throat hurt every time I hear it and on top of that he threw up several times and has a fever that breaks here and there. We are going to the doctor tomorrow. The only good that comes from sick kids are the cuddles and love that you get out of it. As much as I hate having him sick, I have really enjoyed the excuse of staying in my pajamas with him the entire day, watching "Cars", Barney, Sid the Science Kid, and Mickey Mouse, and doing nothing else but having him lay on my round belly and cuddle or just hold my hand the entire show. I could go without the shows! but...they come with the cuddles and so I'll take them. Since I'm not really into the shows at all, I sit and stare at his perfect little hands. They aren't like most little boys his age that have little chubby squaty fingers and thick palms. He has long fingers that almost make his hands look pretty. I sit and wonder what he's going to be when he grows up.  A basketball player? A pianist? An artist? Then I find myself looking at his sweet little perfect face. His long dark eyelashes. His chubby cheeks that I can't resist and have to nibble. His freckles that are sprinkled just a few across his nose. To me he is the most perfect little boy. As much as I hate to see him sick, I love the excuse to slow down and enjoy just being with him and taking him in.