Friday, January 3, 2014

Andrew's Sick Christmas

I think it was the Christmas of 1986 or 1987. We are living in Durham, NC in our house on Revere Rd. This was to be the first Christmas that Andrew would be old enough to be less impressed with the wrapping paper, bows, and boxes and more involved with the concepts of presents.

I can remember how excited he was as the presents under the tree magically increased but this year we didn't have to watch him like a hawk to prevent him from opening gifts too early. So we were excited as well.

On Christmas Eve, we likely had a bunch of ward members over for dinner. That was our tradition. The Chapel Hill Ward was a home away from home. Most people our age were far away from family so the ward became the family. This was especially true around Thanksgiving and Christmas.

We had a habit of inviting all those who had no family to our home for dinner. These were great times and helped us establish long-term relationships. As people our age also had small children, it as again likely, as I can't recall exactly, that they all brought their children as well.

This could have been the crux of the problem. After dinner and when our company left, we had our small FHE and got Andrew ready for bed. We noticed that we as a bit lethargic for a small boy who should have been excited for Christmas. So he went to bed very easily and was quickly asleep.

The next morning we made sure everything was ready for Andrew's grand entrance into the living room. His stocking was ready, the Santa presents were all properly placed, and evidence of Santa's arrival (the half eaten cookie and partial glass of milk) was prominently displayed.

I went upstairs to awaken Andrew and he was burning with a fever. He woke up, but we could tell he was not at all registering what was happening. I carried him downstairs and showed him all the stuff Santa had brought but he simply didn't care.

After a few minutes, we put him back into bed and we proceeded to exchange gifts without him. I don't think he woke up much that day. His little sick body simply had to sleep off the illness.

The next morning, however, he was completely better. When he walked downstairs, there were all of Christmas presents waiting for him. He had the best Boxing Day ever. 

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