The little one has a temperature.
When we woke up yesterday morning, I felt her legs warm underneath the duvet. But didn’t think much of it, since it was a warm(isn) morning and I thought she was just feeling warm. She seemed fine the whole day, till she came back from the playground and I knew she wasn’t feeling well when she came home looking flushed.
And now she has a temperature.
I heard her wake last night and quickly rushed to her side. She said, “I’m calling for my Dad!”. Normally, she would always call for me. I heard her Dad behind me, in his rush to get to her, he tripped on something. She said, “What was that Dad?” and then went on and on about everything. She was chattering almost like a delirious chatter. We took her to our bed and she woke up again at around 4:30 asking for pink milk. The good thing about the British summer is that it’s already bright at this time of the day, so I lay there listening to the birds chirp away and watched the light peeping through our curtains. Then fell asleep.
This morning, she was on the couch and fell asleep while watching her Peppa Pig DVD. When she woke up, I took her upstairs and we cuddled on our bed.
She still has a temperature.
I’m wondering now why they say “under the weather” when one isn’t well?
Do you know?