MysterySpots

It is a parental nightmare. You take the shirt off your inexplicably cranky, tired, and horrible child, and discover a Rash. Now, this would only be mildly annoying if it weren't for the fact that Paul and I are supposed to be in two different adults-only places at the same time tomorrow morning (this is in fact the only day all week this is true of) and of course for the fact that she spent all afternoon with another small child yesterday, so I had to call and say "Thanks so much for the playdate, and if you see any weird spots, sorry, that would seem to be our fault." Tomorrow I will call the pediatrician and we will see if the cause is worth determining; I suspect the main possibilities are that it is a nameless virus or that it is a nameable virus, and it's not going to be treatable either way. But if it's nameable at least we'll know something about how contagious it might be. Worst case, of course, it's chicken pox. I think that's unlikely, because it doesn't appear to be itchy. Opal claims it's itchy if you ask, but she fails trick questions like "Does it itch here?" when you put a finger where there's no spot, and I see spots on her back but she claims there aren't any, so I think she doesn't feel it at all.

Our best amusing moment came this afternoon when I wanted to take her for a drive, and she wanted to go for a walk. Lying in my arms, completely limp, she said "But… I… am… perky." I have to admit she did exert the energy to sit up so she could ask suspiciously "Are you laughing at me?"

Read to Opal today: 5 more chapters of Ozma of Oz, Paddington and the Grand Tour twice, Meow, Bark, George, The Amazing Daisy Artichoke, The Epic Adventures of Captain Underpants, and she tried to read An Australian 1 2 3 of Animals to everybody at coffee, but the accumulated crankiness meant that didn't work out well. She did get through it eventually though.

The Running Book Count: 436 + 23 (last year 1886 + 2)