“I have a bug in my mouth.”

“I have bug in my mouth!” This is what Fiona told my friend yesterday when she came over for coffee. Fiona was with us, rather than at preschool, because she is sick. Run a fever, hacking cough, everything hurts sick. Which sucks.

BUT, everything is more fun with a three-year-old. Even illness.

Granted, she is whiny and miserable, but she’s also hilarious.

Last night I told her that it was probably time for bed. She looked up me and said very sincerely, “Mommy, my cough is tired, but not the rest of me. I’ll play for a while.”

Now, I try not to stress things like bedtimes too much, especially when she’s sick, so I let her stay up and got another chance at hilarity a few minutes later. After reading a couple stories and playing with Legos for a few minutes she turned to me and said, “Mommy, my germs are tired. We should put them to bed.” Then with a pause and a yawn added, “And the all of me, too.”

Life is better with a thinking three-year-old. Even sick life.

 

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