Cubby had another brief spell of feeling unwell on Sunday. I could tell because he consented to lie down on the couch with a blanket over him. As opposed to running around with his pretend ax, chopping down (pretend) trees and menacing mountain lions.
I trust you don't need me to tell you the mountain lions were also pretend.
After a long nap, he took a nice warm bath and then decided he wanted to lie down in front of the woodstove to dry his hair. And he wanted Charlie to lie down with him.
It was peaceful and adorable to see the two boys resting together.
Ah, brotherly love.
But then Cubby started to perk up.
And Charlie started to get that familiar worried expression.
Then there was some playing with the baby's ears.
Charlie knows this won't end well.
And then the head patting started.
And Charlie's face says, "Get me out of here," as clearly as a face can.
Not that I enjoy it when Cubby is sick, but I kind of enjoy the relative calm that results. He's all recovered now, though. And Charlie is back on the defense.