Despite not feeling well, Monkey Boy insisted on staying up and watching the rest of the movie.
He was, technically, lying down, so it was hard to argue the point. Besides, his friend was sleeping in his bed. I wanted to minimise his contact with it as much as possible.
Another high temp, and a very, bright red cheek, so I wrestled open the new panadol and handed it over. Apparently, it tasted “yucky”.
Too fresh, perhaps?
Half the dose downed and off he race again.
All I can say is “thank goodness for floorboards”
The two younger children (Godzilla and his friend and the younger sibling) had been looking for somewhere to play, and were repeatedly moved on for finding unsuitable spots. What was wrong with the bedroom, complete with carpeted floor, I have no idea.
The bathroom, particularly at that point in time, was probably not the best spot in the world to play. Or so they quickly found out.
Kids to bed, eventually, Monkey Boy in ours, with the intent that either Grumpy or myself would sleep on the couch, I settled down with a glass of wine.
Which tasted yuk ….