Why is it that a small child seems to handle sickness better than a full grown adult? My son has been running a fever for seven days now, been to the doctor twice, has a double ear infection, a cough, a stuffy nose, and no appetite. There were two days where he lied on the couch like a lump and my heart wanted to break for his sad little face and his sick eyes, but for the other five days he held his own against the evil germs and still played with his cars. If I had a double ear infection and a fever I’d probably want to drape myself over the couch and let someone feed me chicken soup while I whined about how horrible I felt; the air around me would vibrate with the my moaning and groaning. I won’t even get into how my husband behaves when he has the sniffles. (Hint: I said I would only want to drape myself over the couch and moan). But not my son: with him it’s more like drive the Matchbox Mustang along the couch cushion, :::cough:::, :::cough:::, park the Mustang at the end of a long line of assorted other Matchbox cars. Wheel an ambulance along the arm of the couch. Ask for a tissue. He’s such a trooper. If I could just get him to swallow his medicine without screaming bloody murder then I believe he would qualify for some sort of medal.