Carolyn is gone from yesterday to Sunday running a convention in Chicago. I've never been with Pete for so long on my own. Though I'm fighting through a minor illness, we had a good day yesterday, going through all the routines cheerfully. Then, reading the very last bedtime book, as I began to exult in having conquered the first day, Pete turned to me with an odd expression on his face. I think it was somewhere in the middle of the second wave of vomit that I realized that the theme of Friday and Saturday had fully shifted from "father-son bonding" to "limit-testing building of character."
(We saw the doctor. Having regained his appetite, Pete should be fine soon.)
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