I've come down with a cold. Well, I've had this lingering cold for a week now, but it's blossomed into a really sodding annoying sore throat. It's always the way – the moment you have a moment to relax is when the cold gets it clutches on you.
Really, I've no one but myself to blame. I spent several hours amongst smokers in a beer garden. Since the smoking ban I seem to have forgotten that being around smokers when you already have a sore throat is asking for trouble. It now feels like it's been attacked with knives. I had to suck on one of those numbing lozenges just to be able to sleep through the night.
I am, of course, now paranoid of going anywhere near the wife. Even though I'm pretty sure she got the cold first and passed it on to me.
Also, somehow, my paranoia not going anywhere near the wife doesn't mean I don't spend as much time as possible with my hand on her belly. The wee one is moving quite frequently now, and, if you look closely, you can see her belly jump and twitch — which is really neat. Feeling the movement is comforting, and helps keep my mind of the knives of soreness in my throat. I've read that the foetus is also comforted by the father's warm hands. So lots of win all around, I hope.
In other news, her navel is disappearing. It's now the size and shallowness of a ½ teaspoon. You can clearly see the bottom and reddish-pink scar along running horizontally across it. Strange that such a reminder of one's on birth should only come just before giving birth oneself.
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