The boy has a cough so horrible it could wake the dead. It sounds as if he's 100 years old and has been smoking for 99. When he talks, he sounds like this dog with no voicebox that used to live down the street from us when I was a kid.
It's bad. It's real bad.
Jack's got croup.
Apparently, it's something that only babies can get (thank goodness) but I think I was the person who gave it to him -- a co-worker's kid just got over it.
It's a virus that makes it difficult to sleep. He chokes on his flem -- and then panics. Needless to say, no one in our household has gotten much sleep this week.
Husband stayed home with him today. My parents are coming tomorrow so Husband can leave for his trip to Columbus at a decent hour. Then I think we'll spend another weekend at their house so I am not left stranded with a very sick, very clingy kid.
Lucky grandparents, eh?
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