cosmic balance

last night brought me an example of perfect counterpoints – terror and bliss.

i was awoken at midnight by my 3-yr-old  son crying for help, so i crawled out of bed and went to see what was wrong.

i felt him before i found him – so feverish that he resembled a BBQ more than a small child. he was clutching his face and sobbing that ten ogres had stolen his nose.

i was torn between mirth and horror – the meningitis-inspired fear familiar to all parents.

all’s well that end’s well. i slept, fitfully, beside my wee furness of a son, and when we were woken at 7 by my wifey, his temperature had subsided.

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