I came home from the grocery store to a sick kid, curled up on my side of the bed (with the television) and looking for much sympathy. Not to mention some company while on his various runs to the bathroom.
“Why don’t we have televisions in the bathrooms?” he asks me.
He’s switched to lying on the bathroom floor now, covered in a big puffy comforter, and I think he’s asleep. I try to type quietly.
white pebble 