We’ve been a bit poorly here in spud central. I had to rush off to pick him up from nursery two Mondays ago because he had lost his dinner (and by the size of the patch of sawdust, his lunch and possibly his breakfast) all over the toy shelf.
I came to get him, expecting, as I usually do when he is ill a pale, limpid slip of a thing but getting my usual rambunctious spudlet showing no indication that anything was wrong, other than the softly lingering scent of his incident and a constant desire to be carried. I bathed him and he refused his dinner, demanding instead the first of what must now be 100 bottles of warmed milk.
The next day, barred from nursery, the frog stayed home with him so that I could work and the spud bounded around the house, defiantly being well, but still not eating. He had a smidgen of breakfast but then refused lunch and dinner, demanding instead an ever-increasing number of bottles of milk. Yes, he is still having milk from a bottle. Alright, YOU come over and give it to him in a cup. Go on, I Dare You. You face that look of betrayal, the clutching hands around the cup, the quivering lip as he bravely raises it and then... the wail of humiliation as he sips, the howl as it all becomes Too Too Much and he lets it go all over his lap and lies down sobbing as though he was All Alone in the Void. I thought not.
Anyway, so here we are, two weeks later and still going through 4 pints of milk in less than 2 days. Friends rang us on their way over the other day and asked if they could pick us up anything and I asked for 4 pints of milk. They brought over two 2-pint bottles ‘so that the last part doesn’t go off in your fridge’ and I looked at them as if they were completely insane. It’s not just milk though, oh no, it’s fluids in general. He can now pad his way over to the fridge, take out the juice, open the lid, pour it into a cup (aha, now juice – THAT goes in a cup), put the lid on, take it back to the fridge, drink down the cup and go back to do it all again. Notice I don’t add the words ‘without spilling anything’.
He’s eating again now but not really that much. Now we’ve all come down with a cold and a cough it’s hard to resist his husky little voice holding up an empty bottle and wheezing ‘maw?’ so I guess we’ll just keep bothering the cows until he decides he’s had enough.