Tucked up

A DAY IN BED

                                    ~ Katherine Mansfield

I wish I had not got a cold,
The wind is big and wild,
I wish that I was very old,
Not just a little child.

Somehow the day is very long
Just keeping here, alone;
I do not like the big wind's song,
He's growling for a bone

He's like an awful dog we had
Who used to creep around
And snatch at things--he was so bad,
With just that horrid sound.

I'm sitting up and nurse has made
Me wear a woolly shawl;
I wish I was not so afraid;
It's horrid to be small.

It really feels quite like a day
Since I have had my tea;
P'raps everybody's gone away
And just forgotten me.

And oh! I cannot go to sleep
Although I am in bed.
The wind keeps going creepy-creep
And waiting to be fed.

Ro-Ro has been unwell since the week-end with sore throat, fever and the chills.  He comes good and is his old self again then fades away.  Little Wanna is also suffering from a general malaise.  They both stayed home from school yesterday.  Slept mostly, read Tin-Tin and did jigsaw puzzles. I came home last night to a cooked dinner.  A rare treat. The tantalising aroma met me at the door before the children did.  This is the added bonus of not being the parent who takes the day off.   But they're on the mend now and have spring in their step after a dozey start to the day.   
 
Image: The Sick Child, 1893, by J. Bond Francisco. Smithsonian American Art Museum