Charlie got off the bus Friday afternoon and, not seeing Jim who'd had to go to New York, concluded it was a Wednesday situation. He was readily convinced that this would not be the case, Jim soon appeared, they rode bikes, Charlie was very nervous though his anxiety was ironed out as the evening wore on and we resisted his latest way to deal with it, asking to go to McDonalds. We'd acceded to these requests quite a bit quite too much of late and Tuesday's fracas was in part set off by Charlie's catastrophic thinking getting the better of him such that his mind was gripped with the one thought, McDonalds or death.
So to speak.
Other factors were lag from a happy visit with old friends, perhaps some gnawing distress at seeing us clean out the basement for the annual town pick-up, thymic discord after four or so rounds of antibiotics this year due to a recurring rash / impetigo on Charlie's left cheek that brought him and me to the pediatrician on Wedesday afternoon and sent me hieing to the health food store on Thursday to get some probiotics after the doctor mentioned, very much in passing, these might help Charlie's stomach woes (bad bacteria and good bacteria and all that).
Charlie is sporting his prize fighter look, of scabs and such on some portions of his face -- SIBs and impetigo are quite the combo, plus the teenager's bane, acne. It is past 1am Friday night and Charlie is pacing around while Jim and I attend to the habitual activities of midterm season (grading).
Though characteristically non-sleeping -- I'm starting to think it's not that Charlie has insomnia but a-somnia, as in he is is just not the sleeping type, at least not at this point in his life -- he appears to be feeling better and his belly is not, as it was for much of the past several days, distended.
Yes, time for me to crack out my Herodotus. The Spartans are waiting at Thermopylae.