the son

is crabby, cranky and wonky. wants to sleep on the top bunk. i tuck in the daughter on her bunk and heave myself to sleep with the boy. the blackster is jobless. his master away on a flight.

sometime later, i feel the cold. i almost keel over to check on the precious, precocious daughter and her blanket. the blackster is pretending to be mother hen and sleeping beside her huddled form.

should tell the dog off then and there, my husband has told me. otherwise, it will be difficult to control and there will be discipline issues. hmff. i didn't ask for the dog. its your problem. my baby is warm.

this morning the son wakes up with measles. i believe in karma.

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so, its not measles. but, food poisoning. from either the sausages he had or the kaju katli. on medication and anti-biotics. but now, swollen ears and feet and lips. another trip to doctor. now, blood and urine tests.

at the nearby government hospital where they collected his blood sample

the son screams and writhes. the daughter closes her eyes and ears. i just don't want anything wrong with kidney or liver, i think. waiting for results. swelling does not bring good tidings. but, i have seen this scene above. i believe in signs.

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day six. his skin is peeling - inside and out. cannot stomach anything but idli-sugar and milk. the lining in his mouth and intestines and gut has to grow back just like the one on his face and all-over. why God, you couldn't stand the two nights of undisturbed sleep i had, so you thought you'd like some action?

might send him to school tomorrow. worried that the irritation on his skin will lead him to more fights. maybe the other kids will poke fun of the skin of his face. i am losing trust. in everything, in children, too. any action can bring on more than an equal and negative reaction. this will not do. i need to believe more. i need to. i believe...

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