Sick Day


So yesterday we had our first 70-degree day in six months! No, seriously. I heard it from Chicago’s weather guru Tom Skilling. SIX. MONTHS!!!

It was a gorgeous sunny day, though quite windy. A day I’ve been looking forward to since what seems like forever. A day when Wee-J and I could finally head outside without the burden of two coats, two hats, two sets of mittens, a scarf for me and a blanket for the stroller for her. Just grab the keys and the sunglasses and head out to the park to run around in the warm breeze.

The first 70-degree day in Chicago is like a holiday. Everyone seems to be outside and in a good mood. It’s like we’ve all just emerged from our underground hibernation, smiling and stretching our arms up to the sun. Every spring is like the first spring. It’s one of the joys of living here in the Midwest. The joy of spring continues for weeks as flowers, shrubs and trees bloom in waves until everything is lush and green in June.

Unfortunately for me and my young friend, Wee-J finally succumbed to the cold that’s been making the rounds. Yesterday she was a sneezing, snotty miserable little munchkin, running a low-grade fever and generally out-of-sorts. So, no sunshine time for us.

Wee-J’s too young to understand that we weren’t going outside because she was sick. She’s not yet at the age to whine, complain and beg to go outside, to throw a little tantrum because she was sick and had to stay indoors.

No, that was me.


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