Down on His Luck

Poor Tuna. He's been having a run of bad luck. Last week, he was sick. He woke up at 3 a.m Friday with fever. I took him to the doctor, but it took a full 24 hours for him to start feeling better. He was a trooper, though. Look at him here, waiting to go to the doctor.

Instead of following me around, whining and wanting to be held, he just curled up in the chair and waited patiently for me to get all the stuff together to leave. Bless his little heart.

He's well now, but yesterday, while playing at the park, he busted his upper lip. He did cry then, but the part that melted my heart was when he was saying "Sorry (Wah-wee)" as I cleaned the blood off of his face. I'm not sure why he was saying 'sorry', as those are usually reserved for when he hits his sisters or breaks their stuff. I'm thinking that maybe he doesn't understand what 'sorry' means and he thinks that, any time there is a troubling event that involves him, he should be sorry. Or maybe he was genuinely sorry that he ruined my t-shirt. Either way, I melted. Did I already say that he melts my heart? Well, he does!

Here he is this morning, with his swollen lip. I caught him off guard. He was just waking up, sipping his milk and asking for Dora, ("Doe-wah") his newest obsession.

But once he saw the camera, he gave Mommy what she wanted....

Ahhh, sweet boy. *heart officially melted*