Poor Little Cutesome

My poor little baby is sick. He's had a slight fever since Friday and a cough that's getting worse and worse. This morning I could hear Cutesome in the baby monitor, coughing and coughing. I went and got him out of bed and gave him some Tylenol and tried to give him a bottle (he's not wanting to eat much) and then held him in my bed so I could listen to him breathe. His breathing is getting louder and louder and I'm worried about him. So I woke Dreamer up and asked him to listen to him breathe and after we talked about it for a minute I told Dreamer I was going to leave the baby there and take a shower so I could take Cutesome into the doctor as soon as they open. Just then, Dynamite (who slept on our floor) got up and left the room. I figured we were too loud for him, so he decided to go back to his bed to sleep. I took my shower and when I came back to my bedroom I found Dynamite laying on my bed, fully dressed, including shoes. He said, "I'm going to Cutesome's doctor appointment". Then he followed me back to my bathroom and said, "Don't tell dad, but I think Cutesome might die. Sometimes I shake him and you said if I shake him he could die." Of course, he doesn't mean violent shaking, just the normal 5-year-old not being careful enough with the baby stuff.

Right now, even as I write this, Dynamite is trying to convince Dreamer to go to Cutesome's doctor appointment. He just said, "Don't you remember how worried mom was about Cutesome? You need to go to Cutesome's doctor appointment." He is so darn cute!