When Z and I needed a break from octopus-watching at the Seattle Aquarium (she had been fever-free all morning but had developed one again during the outing) we found refuge in the second-floor cafe, where a lemon sugar cookie and peppermint tea (her) and coffee (me) held much promise for raising our spirits. The vacant, long-suffering look of my sick kid, even clutching her prized whale cookie, caught my eye and I raised my camera for a photo.

Z's grandmother works as a commercial portrait photographer, so our daughter is used to posing.


I want a picture that shows how you feel, I said.


And then she coughed.


The kid is finally on the mend - today's her first day with no fever, and we've been back in Texas since Saturday. Z cried for twenty minutes this morning when she learned she wouldn't be headed to her grandmother's house due to her fever the previous night, skywriting broken hearts and crossed-out happy faces at the ceiling from bed. When that storm had passed, however, she saw a fine day of recovery while Daddy took the day off work.