When he got up this morning he was covered in an itchy rash and felt really hot. I took his temperature and shouted downstairs to Brantley. "It's 101 degrees!"
"Damn!" Luke replied. He had obviously not lost his spirit.
"What did you say?"
"Nuffing. You wook fancy."
"That excuse will only work so many times, Mister."
Brantley and I took him to the doctor where he was diagnosed with strep throat and Scarlett Fever. In all my years of nursing I'd never seen Scarlett Fever. Poor kiddo. It looks rough. However, despite his itching and clawing, headache and fever, he still wanted to show everyone in the office his dance to Funky Cold Medina. He did the whole thing complete with ground routine, but I have to admit that it didn't have its usual pizazz. I'll forgive him this time.
"This song makes my booty dance, Mom."
"Indeed it does, son. Indeed it does."
(To be clear, Luke's never seen the video.)
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