Well...the kid is officially tired of fending for herself. When I drug myself into her room to get her out of bed this morning, she said "is Grammy here?" When I replied "Nope," she said "Where's my daddy?" I informed her he was working, and she made me feel a LOT better:
"So it's just you?"
Thanks, kid. Thanks a lot. She at least asked if I was still sick and said she's get some cream to make me feel better.
I guess we'll be in front of the tv again today.
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You got served.
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