all the small mammals in the house say “zzz”

Julia was really ill this week. I mean, not like rush her to the ER ill, but her temperature hovered around 104 degrees for three days. What’s that in real numbers? 40 Celsius. I’ma have to relearn metric now I’m English. Probably have to stop using I’ma, too. But I digress.

She kept waking at 2am in fever and pain, and then throwing up all over Jeremy. Lucky Jeremy! He was going above and beyond because I had some very intense stuff on at work – despite which I came home early on Tuesday and Thursday to ferry her to the doctor and then just to hang out with her. The fever broke Thursday afternoon and she was mostly okay yesterday and fine today.

Have I mentioned that, seriously, thank the stars for antibiotics? Seventy years ago that might have been a fatal illness; seventy years from now it might be again. Thank the stars and amoxicillin for my irresistible, extraordinary little daughter, made of sunshine and pure steel, who at nineteen months is reading books to me by naming the pictures – “Duck! Apple! Gato!” – and who is constantly trying to figure out how to make me laugh.

I keep forgetting to mention that Bebe our vicious and unpredictable so-called companion animal, who surprised us by tolerating Claire, is actively fond of Jules. Jules is clearly our animal lover, drawn to and gentle with both cats and dogs – I intend to conceal the existence of horses from her altogether – but the surprise is how tenderly the poisonous little cat responds. This evening as Julia fell asleep in my arms, Bebe was stretched out beside us in the Ikea armchair. I could feel the cat purring against my thigh and the baby snoring on my breast, and I thought remember this, remember this, burn this moment into your memory; because this is as good as it gets.

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