Man, oh man I hate having tiny sick people. I think it might be one of the worst parts of being a parent. It's just so hard to watch a young child get sick to where it changes their demeanor.
My poor little man is having one of those nights. He was running around the kitchen, happy as a lark, taking breaks in his storytelling to plop down on the rug (we have a house rule about sitting to eat) and eat a "crunchy" (soy crisps that he's recently fallen in love with). Five minutes later I'd gone in the living room and settled into the couch to nurse tiny dude. Dom wandered in and asked if he could sit with me. He leaned his little head on me and then didn't do anything. Not a word. For two whole minutes. Anyone that knows him knows he's a perpetual chatterbox. I asked if he was ok, and he replied with a yeah. Not quite content with that answer, I asked if I could feel his head. Sure enough one warm forehead. It's a low grade fever, not going up or down, and he's now conked out. So, now we just wait and pray, and hopefully, by morning I'll have my cheerful little guy back.