Poor Hugh got a cold today. One minute, he was running all around the house laughing; the next minute, he was running all around the house laughing with a red, hot face.

We took his temperature – 101.7.

Poor baby. I really do hate that he’s sick, but for now, he’s sitting quietly on Tasha’s lap with pink cheeks, a green pacifier, warm hands, and I can’t help but think that even sickness really does become him. My sweet baby.

Sick baby

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