We’ve kept Will sequestered at home for a few days with pink eye, which we only officially diagnosed and started treating with antibiotic drops late yesterday. On the drive to the doctor I noticed my eye itching, figured I was probably getting psychological pink eye just from thinking about the illness too much, but sure enough by the time we’d arrived in front of the nurse I had a clear case too. The upside of pink eye, in our case at least, has been that we’ve felt almost perfectly fine. And I enjoyed having Will and Owen together all day today and discovering just how much sustained time they could spend enjoying each other. I kept sneaking off into other rooms and keeping an ear out as they invented new things to do.
Occasionally Will would find me and register a complaint:
“I had the jack-in-the-box first and Owen took it,” he came to tell me once in a whiny voice.
“Hmmm,” I said. “I wonder how you could work that one out?”
“I guess just let him play with it,” he said, suddenly chipper, and he trotted back to play some more.
Tonight we passed our 24-hour on antibiotic drops mark, so we’ll get to return to the world. I’m still marveling at the fact that Owen hasn’t yet succumbed to pink eye himself since once of his favorite things to say of late is “eye, eye, eye” as he points to the eye of any nearby family member with such eagerness that he sometimes sticks his finger right in the eye he’s identified. We’ll see what he’s looking like in the morning.
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