Clouds block the sun

I'm certain that there is nothing in the world that can make me feel more helpless than holding a sick child. Oliver is unwell...red, spotty, and feverish with a viral infection (measles).

Despite confirmed medical significance, this time my Nana kisses didn't work.

Through his red, weeping, swollen eyes, he smiled at me. His warm and limp little body felt so much smaller than usual. I pushed my finger into his small fist and he gripped it lightly. For the first time in his short life, my Oliver is quiet.
Not the usual little man who only sits still long enough to devour a cookie or two, entertaining me with funny faces and random songs between bites...not the same little guy who turns the pages faster than I can read them, or baits me for a chase by grabbing something prohibited and running down the hallway, or drops the remote into the dogs water dish, or pockets my fridge magnets when I'm not looking...