baby param is ill. i am trying to persuade him to sleep. he’s too nose-blocked, too ventolin-y, too antibioticked, way too angrytiredsleepy.
Me: “firstborn, for heaven’s sake. please play quietly in the hall.”
firstborn trots off.
baby param is responding to the silence. i pat him. his lower eyelashes are an eyelash away from the upper eyelashes.
sleep. yes. rapid eye movement. yes.
“MA! AM I PLAYING QUIETLY ENOUGH, NOW?: firstborn booms from the hall.
where was i?