Well, the awards season is officially underway, and there's a new one about to be handed out. It's the award for "Least Intuitive Parent" and it goes to... the envelope please... gosh, these things are so hard to open... ME!
Yeah, we took Miss O to the doctor today to check out her cough that has been kinda hangin' on for a while and he said that she has a touch of the pneumonia. Just a touch, mind you. So, I'm guessing the swimming she did at that birthday party on Sunday, and the sledding we did yesterday afternoon probably weren't the best things for her fluid-filled breathing bags. I keep flashing back to her at the bottom of the sled hill, standing there and whining, "But I'm too tired to walk back up! Can't you carry me?" And me shouting back, "Oh, come on, lazybones! Run on back up here -- it's not that steep!"
To be fair, I think it's only gotten into her chest in the last day or so, and we have been doing her breathing treatments and everything, so we're not complete deadbeats. I'm sure it's viral, but the doc is putting her on Augmentin "just in case." The girl remains surprisingly chipper, however. Back before she got her tonsils out, she used to get bronchitis/pneumonia all the time and she'd get all feverish, listless and pale and I'd have to sleep on her floor at night so I could hold a mirror up to her mouth every half hour to see if she was still breathing. (I was a little more tightly wound back then.) Now, she's the picture of health... uh, except for the pneumonia part.
Ah, she'll be fine. Nothing a little vigorous exercise won't fix. Maybe I'll wake her up and run her around the block a few times. Or I can make her shovel the driveway! That'll get those lungs a-pumpin'!
You know, I don't wanna jinx it, but I'm thinking I've got that "Dad-of-the-Year" trophy in the bag!