A Diabolical Fever

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 As Logged By:

Agent Chase

 

 A little nap is all I want,

Not some fancy croissant.

Get me back to bed

Can't you see my face is red?

 

All this crying and, still, nothing.

Mommy knows not a thing! 

My cheeks feel quite hot

Will you see before I snot? 

 
"Time for our brunch date!"  Mommy squeals from down the hall.
 
Meanwhile, I'm not having such a ball.  My head feels heavy, my bones are aching, and I'm pretty sure that my tummy is about to rebel.  
 
"Get up!  Get up, lazy bones," Mommy says at sight of me.  Without a glance at my pale complexion, she hoists me up and onto her shoulder.
 
BBLLLLLEEEUUCCCCCKKKKK! 
 
"Ooh!  Did someone have some spit up to get out?"  
 
No, Mommy.  NO!
 
I think I'm sick, I need to go to bed.  I'm puking, not spitting up.  And, I feel the chills, I think I'm getting a fever.  What does a diabolical mastermind need to do to get this in your head?
 
Not one to give up so easily, Mommy changes her shirt and is ready, again, to go.
 
"I bet a warm croissant will make your tummy feel right as rain."
 
I highly doubt that.  What this baby needs is a nap.
 
"Wow," Daddy gasps at sight of me.  "Chase's face is getting pretty red."
 
"Shush, she's just fussy."
 
"Are you sure?"
 
Zinging her warning glare right at Daddy, Mommy cooly answers, "Of course, I am."
 
No, she's not!
 
Honestly, what must I do to get it through this woman's head that her little baby is sick, sick, sick!  This fever is getting worse.  How can I tell her.  Wait...  I know!
 
"WWWWAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!  WWWAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"
 
Daddy does his best to yell over my wails.  "Maybe we should stay home," he says and starts to cover his ears.
 
Yelling right back, Mommy gives a firm shake of her head, "Not a chance."
 
"WWWWAAAAAHHHHHHHH!  WWWAAAAAHHHHHHH!  WWWAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"
 
I scream and scream and scream some more.  I scream until my throat is sore.  And, still, Mommy is proving to be so, so stubborn.
 
"We have a table reserved!"  Mommy yells over my wails. 
 
The hostess tries to give a smile.  However, with every fresh scream that I send, she flinches and jerks like she has a bug crawling up her.
 
Hehehe...
 
"WWWWAAAAHHHHHHH!"
 
"Ma'am, are you sure that your baby is okay?"
 
For a second I stop.  I must, you see.
 
For Mommy just got Ma'amed!
 
Her right eye twitches and, I'm pretty sure, some veins along her neck start to pop.  Her head gives little twitches in between moments where she shows her fangs.
 
"Honey," Daddy quietly nudges.  "Chase's cheeks feel really hot."
 
"Huh?"  Mommy twists back around and presses a hand to my burning hot, chubby little cheek.  "Oh, no.  My baby, Chase, are you okay?"
 
I look at her cardigan and take my aim. 
 
BBLLLLLLLEEEEEUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKK!!!!!!
 
I'm feeling a little better now. 
 
 
Upcoming log:
 
Previous log:  A Diabolically Injured Mommy 

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