My family often accuses me of favouring my youngest child. Three year old Rhett. I previously wrote about how he may or may not have me wrapped around his finger. At times I have felt slightly guilty about this but today, I don't.
I don't because, bless his three year old little heart, he saw his brother was not going to comply with my never-ending quest to have a valid reason not to go to work and he promptly got the chicken pox. FOR A SECOND TIME.
How do I not give him a little extra snuggle for that? Or maybe even whisper sweet nothings about him being my favourite in his ear when no one else is around? He is putting his soft little toddler body through a second spell of itching and potential scarring just so I don't have to go to work. Or at least that's how I see it...
If you follow along and remember, he broke out with the pox Monday before last. Which meant I got to stay home from Tuesday to this Tuesday because of the long weekend. I went back to work two days ago and am home again today. He has sprouted three new solid pox and the beginnings of three others on his face. I love him so much. And with any luck at all, the six year old will still eventually get them.
That is, if he wants any of my love, he will.