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 ontrary to what the
title sounds like, this is not going to be a rant.
I’ve managed to catch a cold. I’ve been doing so well all winter
– evidently my body enjoys the 20-degree days a lot more than the miserable
mildness of San Diego. Luckily, this is an end-of-season cold, which
I can usually shake in a few days, and thankfully, this one seems to be
going as planned.
Let’s put it this way – I am NOT going to be sick for Saturday.
We have tickets for the first ever game at PNC Park (so what if it’s
an exhibition game; it’s still the first game ever). They keep flip-flopping
on Saturday’s weather – warm, cold. Rain, no rain, rain. It
stinks (I know I said that this wasn’t going to be a rant – I promise this
is all I will rant about) because we were going to take the Little One,
but now I don’t think it’s such a good idea. Between the questionable
weather, and the crowd, and the insane parking situation (there’s basically
no parking at all at the stadium), it would probably be better to leave
him at home. Ten years from now, he’ll probably be mad when he finds
out that he could have been there, but we went without him instead.
But I could live with that if it rules out his catching pneumonia or getting
kidnapped in all the confusion.
Besides, he hasn’t been feeling well himself lately. He had a
stomach bug bothering him last week, and this week he’s dealing with some
unknown malady that makes falling asleep a total chore. Monday night,
he woke up screaming about every hour or so. I’m thinking that his
teeth might finally be breaking through – of course, I’ve been saying that
for six months now.
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