I've been a bad daddy. The first bad thing I did was take you out to public, germy places. The grocery store, the biolab once, and even... briefly... through a daycare center. Granted you were tucked away tightly in the Ergo so that contact would be minimal, it was still probably a bad idea. Unfortunately, sometimes things come up for work on the days I'm taking care of you and the only way to deal with them is to pack you up and take you along... but sometimes I just want to show off my baby, too. That's the second bad thing. Fatherhood Vanity.
Here we are at the bio labs, where parents drop off their germy, snot-nosed
college kids for the day. One of those germy, snot-nosed college kids
may have been patient 0! Kerry, my friend and coworker, was a
big follower of your story and I thought it would be selfish
to hog all of your supernatural cuteness all to myself! So we took a visit...
Well, it turns out you paid the price for my cavalier attitude. I got sick a few days ago and before I knew what had hit me, I'd gotten you sick, too. There must be something about the earliest phases of respiratory illnesses--- right before you know you've got it--- that makes you kiss your children excessively all over their faces. A brilliant evolutionary adaptation, on the part of viruses I suppose. Anyway, we noticed that you started getting finicky during feeds. And then the moment we feared came. The crying came in a deluge. You were sick, for sure. Weeping, inconsolable, snorting and gasping on mucus... at least that is how it was recounted to me. In the spirit of suffering with you, we both were feverish, weepy, and dripping with mucus concurrently.
Here you are, letting us know the extent
of your unhappiness
A lull in the storm. Is the worst over??
Nope, right back to crying!
We've always feared the prospect of you getting sick with a respiratory illness because of your chronic lung disease. It just seemed like it would make a bad situation worse. In the end though, it seems you've weathered the episode better than I have, evidenced by the fact that I cried and whined at least as much as you had. Maybe you didn't inherit my epic-ly wimpy immune system, after all.
Anyway, because I'd taken you around places and because you'd been to the Onam party recently, we didn't know whether you'd gotten the bug from me or someplace else. That means you're on Daddy quarantine until I'm well. Which, if history holds firm, will be awhile. While you were once greeted by my broad smile, you are now greeted with this:
"Come give Daddy a kiss... *SNIFF*"