Max and Miles who, to Me, Will Always be Secretly Named "Gus"

The blog about Max and his little brother, Miles. Stunningly cute boys and future leaders of the rebel forces.

Friday, October 13, 2006

He'll Hate Me for Posting this One

Max got his first cold this week. There's no real way to express the absolute dismay and confusion that he was feeling when this picture was taken. Confused, tired, feeling crappy. Somehow, the camera wasn't quite able to capture what his eyes were saying. Underneath it all is a little "thank god mom is here and holding me". Actually, there's a lot of "thank god mom is holding me" in there.

I'll never forget, when I was young, the morning I woke up and couldn't talk. Mom woke me up, asked me how I felt and the first words out my mouth were going to be, "I feel okay, I guess." However, when I started to say that, and I heard my voice squeak and felt the pain in my throat, it became: "Mommy! I can't talk!" Lemme tellya: if Ferris Bueller had tried that one, he would've been "home" for a week, no prob.

Ol' Max, he woke up an hour after going to bed when he noticed that his schnoz was plugged with goo and it doesn't work when it's plugged with goo. I can't imagine the feeling of your body suddenly rebelling (a little) after working so well for seven months. He got up, his Mom held him, he whimpered his sad, tired, hurting-and-I-don't-know-why heart out. He fell asleep, eventually, and figured out that the mouth functions for O2 intake as well as the nose.


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