Logan is slowly but surely regaining some of the characteristics that make him such a wolverine to begin with. The thick, white scab on the back of his throat is enough to make me gag just looking at it but hey, those white blood cells are doing their job. He is slowly weaning down on his pain medication. This means less incidences like this one in the bathroom at 2 a.m. night before last:
Logan: "You don't have to wear that hat."
Me (in pjs, and certainly not wearing a hat): "Sure, babe. Whatever you say."
Logan: "You should just take it off. I don't like it."
Me (still not wearing a hat): "Let's just potty and get back in bed, buddy."
Logan: "I don't want to potty. (whining now) I want you to take off your hat. It's bothering me."
Me (tired and losing patience): "Touch my head, son. I am not wearing a hat."
Logan (with his hand on my bent head): "Wow. Your hair sure is soft, mom. (eyes fluttering and rolling back) Did I pee yet?"
I've seen my five year-old stoned, and it is not a comforting thing. He seems to enjoy it just a little too much for my teetotaler taste. Let's just pray he never figures out what else folks roll up and smoke.