Today is K's 1 birthday. His last before the teens. Though I feel as though I've been cheated out of this final year of "childhood"--he has chest hair for pete's sake! *snif, snif* We celebrated at a local Mexican restaurant with all the family. Love it...no dishes to wash, and I didn't have to clean my house. Which is really good considering the last few days around this place.
Thursday the master started running fever on his return trip from Houston. Friday and Saturday passed with no improvement, and finally on Saturday evening he admitted defeat and called a friend to preach for him. When I got home from church, his fever was back up to 102, with Tylenol, and his breathing was so painful, he brought up going to the hospital to me. I knew the man was for real and truly sick. A few hours later, we left the hospital with several prescriptions and a diagnosis of pneumonia. That was day before yesterday, his birthday. Blech. What a lousy way to spend it. So, tonight was kind of a do-over for him, too. Being sick for a few days and missing Sunday, he let his facial hair go. He shaved it off in stages after we got home from the party. First with Elvis sideburns, then the above pictured fuu-manchoo (spelling?), to a simple mustache, and finally a kissable, clean-shaven hubby.
**Just realized after posting that I typed '1' birthday instead of '12th.' Am I in denial, or what?
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