As Emma was recovering from her mild, yet overly dramatic sickness, Lisa and I continued to attend to her needs. For a sick three year old, her needs weren't anything too demanding. All she simply asked for was our attention for every single second of the day. Is that too much to ask? Oh. She also asked for cookies.
One evening, I was rocking Emma in my arms as she was whimpering, "Every second of the day you must attend my needs." Andrew walked up to me and asked, "What wrong?"
"Emma's sick," I replied.
"I not sick," answered Andrew.
"I'm glad you're not sick. It's not fun to be sick, is it?" I asked Andrew.
"Nope. But Emma sick?" Andrew questioned with a furrowed brow.
"Yup. That's why I'm carrying her. Poor Emma doesn't feel good," I said.
And then Andrew patted Emma's head and said, "My best girl is sick."
That tender moment between brother and sister would have lasted a little longer if Emma didn't swat Andrew's hand away, and in response, Andrew tried to pull Emma off my lap. But you take what you can get sometimes.