Cabin Fever


I think the kids might be suffering from cabin fever.  Here’s what they’ve been up to lately:

Five-year-old Asher has taken to recounting to us his lengthy, very detailed “dreams.”  We are pretty sure these “dreams” are actually tall tales of his own fabrication.  Most of them involve him and his older cousin going camping, getting lost, and instead of finding the way home just setting up a new settlement in the wilderness.  Other “dreams” involve him marrying a girl named Ruby (they have twins together).  “Isn’t that a fancy name?” he comments.


Today my husband was stepping through the living room in his socks when he very suddenly jumped to the side and asked through clenched teeth:  “Why is the carpet so wet right there?”  Two-year-old Emi looked up nonchalantly and explained, “That’s where I pee.”


The baby has been fussing recently for reasons that are not discernible.  Perhaps she’s teething.  Maybe it’s the diaper rash.  Or maybe, just maybe — my mind summons possibilities — she swallowed a tiny Lego that won’t come out.  Or a Playmobil pistol.  A snippet of plastic wrap?  A rubber band?  A pebble?  How will we know?  Should we go to the emergency room?  Or will the foreign material entomb in her belly and cause stomach problems for her entire life?


Who knows.  Maybe I have cabin fever too.

© Tami Blake

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