A sense of flow
Thoughts on the life of alumni of the Cultural Practice Camp
Today is the Lord's Day. Having been absent for two Sundays, we are excited to get up earlier than usual to prepare. In fact, it was little Pei En who woke me up. He stood in the crib at 4:30 in the morning, gesturing and pretending to cry, "Grandma!" (crying for milk). I could only crawl into his room in pain to hold him. he. As a result, he stayed wild until Sunday school for children ended at 1 p.m. and stayed awake. The husband shook his head and raised his hands in surrender, saying that he was a little monkey sent by God to train us. "It's a little monkey who drank redbull." I said after yawning for over 700 times.
We both believed that Pein must have knocked out my husband's immune system this time, so he was lucky enough to win the lottery and become the 400th flu patient in Massachusetts. I didn’t even count lying at home for a week, but it was also transmitted to me who hadn’t slept for more than five hours in a year and three months. I was really blessed. I remember when he went to the doctor when he first got sick, our family pushed the little prince’s stroller (it has a four-wheel device to absorb impact, a small umbrella, a cup holder for a sippy cup, and three tilts). seat), I still joked on the way: "You might have influenza A. It's terrible, the people in your company will be scared to death." "No, I have never had influenza, don't Nonsense." The gentleman coughed a few times and replied angrily.
As a result, my crow's mouth really hit the mark. Over the next few days, he and I both had headaches, sore throats, muscle aches, sore limbs, everything hurt. "My 'smile is gone' and I'm about to die. Pein, come here and give me a hug. From now on, you have to do it by yourself, because no one will help you change your diaper." I groaned drowsily to Pei En, who was drawing with crayons on the wall. .
"Hey, this is just the flu. Christians shouldn't die like this." My husband scolded me. "Christians are not afraid of death. Anyway, my days are as narrow as the palm of my hand, and my life is completely illusory. And you didn't infect me. I told you to wash your hands when you go home, but you must have not!" I muttered.
"I do! Don't ask your son to come over. Everyone is sick. Why can you smell, hug and kiss me, but I have to wear a mask and be quarantined?" the husband protested. "I got antibodies from my breast milk. It's okay. If I had to get it, I would have got it a long time ago. Didn't you kiss him endlessly before you got sick?" I retorted.
Just like that, I was lying on the sofa, and he was lying on the carpet, raising his bar in one sentence or two. Suddenly, the little guy waddled over, put his duckbill cup into my mouth, and said, "Grandma." I was stunned for a moment, and he fed me water! "Thank you, dear." I said with a smile, looking at my son who was blinking and blinking, but I wanted to cry in my heart. He has grown up and will go to college next year, but I haven't weaned him yet.
"What about dad?" I asked my son. I saw him turning his head and walking toward the husband with figure-eight steps, squatted down and said "poof", spit out the ELMO (Sesame Street cartoon character) biscuit in his mouth into his little hand, and then pulled the husband's mask with his right hand , muttering "Bangbangman" and trying to stuff biscuits into his mouth. "Wahahaha, wowhaha, your son must respect you, cough cough." I laughed until my throat hurt. The husband had no choice but to swallow the wet and soft Elmo. That night, we both drank in a lot of Pein's saliva and his "sour" love.
Thanks to the Lord and everyone’s prayers, my son was not infected with influenza A in the end. He was also very happy because his father lay on the ground for him to ride for a week. He wished that he would be sick every day.
"I also want to be sick for a longer time. I am so happy to be able to be at home with my baby." He sighed after returning to the company to work. I think this illness really makes us feel that we are extremely blessed!