Beaver is asleep upstairs this morning, ill with a fever and nasty cough. Last night around 6:30, he asked me to come snuggle with him on the couch. I willingly obliged, and soon realized that his little body was unnaturally hot. Mike got home soon after, and Beaver was so happy to see him and remarkably cheerful as he lay on the couch under a blanket, in spite of his temperature of 102F. I hate it when my kids are ill, and it got me thinking - who cares if he won't eat half the food I cook? Is that really so important? I'm sure it's just a bug that will pass, but whenever they are sick, I am reminded of how fiercely I love my boys, and the little things don't matter.
Although I must share a funny anecdote from last night. Beaver loves applesauce, but you can't buy it in Japan. I had a whole lot of not-very-good, mealy apples in the fridge, so last night I peeled them and cut them up to make them into applesauce, thinking it would make Beaver happy. But, of course, he doesn't like things that look different than he expects. I guess he has never seen me make applesauce before.
"I don't think I like that applesauce." he said warily.
"Sure you do! You love applesauce!" I responded.
"But I don't like applesauce that is made of apples!"
So, I'll continue to cook what I want, because I think it's a good example for him, and if he doesn't like it he can have bread and fruit. But not breadfruit, because I'm sure that would make him cry.