Sick is No Fun

Maddie isn't feeling at all well. Not at all. In fact, she feels rotten.

Maddie's daddy writes:

"Put the child in her crib at 7:30. She screams for an hour. We finally pick her up, rock her to sleep for an hour, put her in her crib. She wakes up instantly, screams for half an hour. We pick her up from her crib, take her to the chair to try to rock her back to sleep. It's now 10:00. She rolls off the chair, hits the ground running, races to the living room, digs a book out of her book basket, walks to our bedroom, climbs into bed, pulls up the covers, and settles in with a book.

She's now back in the crib, screaming bloody murder because we expect her to sleep at night. But look at the pictures and tell me you can't see the next seventeen years in your head."

Is it bad that I read this and think, "wouldn't it be nice if Iain would climb into our bed, pull up the covers, and read?" Yeah, it's bad, right?