I finished putting Stella to bed and made it back to the Super Bowl just in time to feel embarrassed while Fergie sang Sweet Chile O' Mine with GNR's Slash. I had to look away. Apparently Usher joined the crew, because Mark proclaimed, Now, he can dance. I had no idea he felt this way about Usher.
Heath is still up, but I can see that he'll be fading pretty soon. He's sitting beside me and I can actually feel his elevated temperature through his clothes. No seals waking me up last night at 4:30am, just a burning up little boy at 12:30am. He's pretty much been a lump to be pitied on our bed all day. I finally got him to eat a piece of cinnamon toast at 6pm--the first thing he's had all day.
No preschool tomorrow.
Granny packed her stuff up this afternoon and announced that she wouldn't be staying for dinner because my mom and dad will be coming to get her soon. I told her they would be back on Friday, so she's stuck with us for a few more days. Then she ate a plate of homemade vegetable lasagna, had a shower, and a chocolate ice cream sandwich. Just before she went to bed she said she wouldn't want to stay with anyone other than us.
Must've been one tasty chocolate ice cream sandwich.
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