Oh, can you even believe Dex is sick? Me NEITHER. Except that I'm so used to him being sick that, in a way, each passing day when he was not sick was kind of a delightful surprise. (Tinged, of course, with satisfaction at my own cleverness in making him drink all that tea.)
But now—filled with sorrow and sympathy rather than happy smugness—I am medicating his little buns off and taking him in half an hour to a Weird Al concert. This is such bad timing, even for the fourth-biggest Weird Al fan* in our family of four. I certainly hope he can rally enough to have fun.
* We ranked our fandom yesterday, and it goes M.H., Mik, me, Dex. Mik says he'd definitely be the biggest fan if only he'd been alive to fully appreciate all the '80s parodies.
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