Kolby is down and out with a cold. Well, he's down, he's not totally out.
I've been jumping at his every need.
Put the foot rest up on the chair for your feet that don't reach it?
Push the back of the chair back for you?
Position chair for optimal viewing of Handy Manny?
Wipe your nose?
Every couple of minutes, he says "Mama, me siii."
Translation: Mama, I'm sick.
But the whiny, pitifullness of the words.
I say "I know, baby, I know."
It's all I can do to not say "Suck it up, kid, mama's got the same cold!"