And then there are the moments when all the playground bravado, the terrible two terrors, the smartypants cracks and the lil' boy charms melt away into the fetal position misery of bone churning nausea and fever, when those rapid-fire questions stop and only the big blue eyes in that greenish little face ask the silent universal question - why?! Well, nothing a few strategic naps, a couple of new books, a pack of pretzel sticks and an early evening bowl of piping hot "pirate soup" (no really, only pirates can eat this) can't cure. But it does remind you how little that big boy still is.
Oooh Karl, get better... lots of love from sweden!!
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