leaky Christmas, and feverish, but still sweet

Oh, my, what a Christmas. Fevers raging, we skipped the traveling from house to house and stayed home. Poor girls, being sick on Christmas is no fun, but they did have a good time opening their presents. It was probably better to have it quiet and calm, them being the age that they are.

I have wonderful memories of Christmas, all ethereal, insubstantial memories: the smell of a candle just snuffed out, the mysterious shimmer of gifts in shiny wrapping under a lit tree, anticipation pleasantly gnawing at my stomach, and the odd feeling of it all being over too soon, almost as though it never happened... except that I would have a treasure or two to remind me that it did. The look on the girlies faces this morning showed me that they were feeling the magic and wonder, too, and that made me happy. They also sat quietly and sweetly, while we read the christmas story together and prayed before digging in and tearing up.

Tonight, after a dinner of crackers and the administering of Tylenol, we put the girls in their beds and found water bubbling the ceiling and walls in their bedroom. Super. Dan called our upstairs neighbors to make them aware of the situation and ask permission to go in and check things out, as they were out for the evening and he has a key. They responded by laughing. This did not sit well with me. My kids are sick with a 103 degree fever, and they cannot even sleep in their own beds on Christmas night. I know, though, that these people don't have children, much less sick ones, and can afford to be careless about things like this. It isn't their fault that the leak in their apartment was not given the attention that it should have. Grrrrr.