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Littlest man

February 25, 2007

Dark early morning hour and he snuffles and shuffles to my bedside. Blond hair shining in the night and I wake to see his sad  silhouette. Terrible headache, stuffy head and wants the mama. He crawls in beside me and I lay there listening to his snoring mouth breathing noises and it is like white noise but his obvious discomfort does not lull me to sleep. I place my hand on his cheek and he rests against me struggling to slumber but his congested head will not allow it. His stomach grumbles and I ask him if he wants to get up and eat? He says, shocked, but it is still night time and I can’t eat when it is dark. I say yes you can because I can turn on the light and then we can see.

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