The Good Kind of Breaking

So as of 2:30 this afternoon, dear Thiz, you had no fever. No fever without the assistance of Ibuprofen or Tylenol. Your father wept. I felt like my body melted into the floor in relief. These are not exaggerations. We went for a walk altogether in the late afternoon September sunshine and the world was glowing.

Now, back home, we're feeding you bits of banana. We're letting you watch the Vikings and dial random numbers into the phone. You look a little like a burn victim now that the rash has spread to your face, but you're personality is back, somewhere behind the blotchy red and the slime-trails of snot. The Thiz is back. We're so glad to see you again.