If Eyes Could Talk...

...Lucie's would say, "Daddy, I feel like shit."

After the Luce Goose erupted the mucous volcano, she communicated in the most remarkable way. Without a word, she spoke clearer than I do on most days. The pictures tell the story. Somewhere in the pink, squishy recesses of her brain was some evolutionarily miraculous preprogramming. Her body went limp and she literally melted into her daddy's chest. She barely cried, instead moaning and whimpering. And her face. If she were thirteen, I'd have accused her of being too dramatic and trying to get out of going to school.

But the reality was our little Goose had pneumonia. A scary word, and especially unsettling when your little one can't tell you what she's feeling, or thinking, or needing. Thankfully, Nature helped Lucie scream without words. She screamed, we listened, and the doctor promptly stuck two needles in her and juiced her up with antibiotics. She screamed some more, but no more mucous volcanoes and she was back to normal in no time...

These are the tricks of biology that wrap mom and dad's heartstrings around her pudgy little pinky. I can think of no better place for our heartstrings and I'm glad Darwin invented evolution.