It's Not Teeth

It's not his teeth. It's a cold. And now I've got it too. I can feel a tickle in the back of my throat and when I woke up this morning my eyes were all crusty. Luke went to bed at 8 last night, woke up at 6:30 again, nursed and went back to sleep. It's 9 now. Thirteen hours!

Part of me thinks I should wake him up so that he'll nap properly. But he's sick, and if he's sleeping so long I know he needs it, so I don't want to wake him. Boy, it's a good thing I haven't had anything planned these few days. His routine is all out of whack.

The other night on my drive home from Winnipeg I saw a deer cross the road way up ahead of me. It was dusk, that time when everything's hard to see because the dark things blend into the dark, and the bright things blend into the bright. So I slowed down a little and then thought, "That deer was way up ahead why are you slowing down? Deer don't often run around by themselves, that's why." So I slowed down even more. Moments later, perhaps even as this conversations was going on in my head, my peripheral vision caught something and before I knew it a second deer ran out in front of me. If I hadn't slowed down there is no question that I would have hit that second deer. It was inches away.

The whole rest of the drive I was tense, peering into the darkness beside the road for any sign of another deer. I was afraid that a deer was going to run across the road BEHIND an oncoming car and I wouldn't see it. Well, I guess it was my night for deer. Just past Carman, green lights sparkled just outside my headlights' reach. I turned on the brights and at least 8 deer shadows stretched menacingly across the ditch! I slowed and honked my horn, and the car coming towards me realized what I was doing and also slowed down. Just after I passed, a herd of deer crossed the road in the dark. In my rear view mirror I could see their profiles clopping across the road, silhouetted by the lights of a tractor out in the field seeding.

I wonder how many deer are hit by tractors every year?