Saturday, December 23, 2006
They're home. Whatever is wrong with Huckle is nasty, but in the early stages. Maybe strep, maybe bronchitis, but nothing pinged. We've got antibiotics in him, a prescription for robitussin to pick up, and aside from shots in the legs, he's not too worse for the wear. He came home so tired that he snuggled into my body when I picked him up -- usually the only time he truly relaxes into me is when he's just woken from a nap. I put him in bed, tucked the covers around his chin, and asked which stuffed animal he wanted. Huck's only response was a snore.