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my poor wee boy

September 12, 2008

So, I was just about to pour myself a nice mug of coffee this morning when my phone started to ring. I didn’t recognize the number, but I picked it up anyway. It was Malachy’s school nurse on the phone. Apparently my poor wee boy suddenly was ill, vomited and now had a fever of 101.3. Obviously I had to come pick up my wee lad immediately.

Herein lay the problem. My van is currently at my ex’s house (he is still my mechanic and friend) due to the fact that it was “done broke” and he done fixed it, but we haven’t picked it up yet. Ronan took the Honda to work (I will be posting a praise about his new job shortly) and the only option left .. the F250. The beast of a truck that Ronan used while still contracting. So after a few false starts in the driveway, Molly and I were off in the celtic beast to pick up poor wee Mal. That must have been an interesting sight to anyone who passed me on the way! If I had on overalls, a cowboy hat, and a sprig of wheat in my mouth.. the picture would have been complete!

We arrived in one piece and retrieved Malachy safely. He put himself to bed, a sure sign that he is truly sick, and is having a good lay in as I type.

We will be having a day of Cola, chicken broth soup and cartoons. On the agenda we will be reducing it to lots and lots of hugs, cuddles and sleep.

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