Pink to Flu

While I, Collette, seemed to be successfully recovering from a case of conveniently-timed double pink eye – my first time over all 34 years – Oxbear had succumbed to what very much looked like the flu, New Years Day morning.

So while he “chillaxed”, as Yali would put it, we spent a few hours in the late afternoon at Sally’s farm with a big bonfire, Mom’s pot of chili, and all the kids but Carrie-Bri, working another shift on the East side.

When we returned right before Patience’s bedtime, Yali stood in the doorway of our bedroom to see Oxbear.

“I will pray for you, Dad,” he said. “Dear Jesus, please help Daddy to feel better. In Jesus’ Name, amen.”