It was not what I'd call an ideal vacation day.
Neeps started up a fever yesterday, and when he woke up at two this morning it had risen to 102.7 It later broke the 103 threshold (a first for us), and so I bundled him up and took him to Urgent Care. My sister-in-law, in her infinite mother-of-three wisdom, posited that it was an ear-infection; I found myself inclined to agree, and was not at all surprised when the doc confirmed it. So then I just was happy it didn't hit him until after our flight, and that, thanks to the miracle of modern medicine (ie a round of anti-biotics) he will be all better before we board the next plane, a week from yesterday.
What I'm not happy about, however, is the fact that, thanks to some ridiculous shenanigans between the Urgent Care Place and the Pharmacy, it took us over an hour to get his antibiotics (sitting in Walmart, kicking my heels both figuratively and literally), which resulted in us not getting to go to Makarios as we'd intended, if we wanted to miss Rush Hour south (which, obviously, we did, because if you think Portland traffic is bad, friend you've never been to Birmingham). Boooo.
But I suppose there's always later this week, when we return for the wedding. After all, our child needs some delicious Lebanese food, and we've yet to find anything that can compare in our current neck of the woods.