Yelling and screaming, I'm all for it

After several days of post-nauseal languor, just laying around, sleeping, Graham has begun to take in calories again. He ate some toast, had some formula. And, as he's regained strength, he's once more found his vocal range, yelling and screaming for all he's worth. Pissy and ornery, as I'm sure anyone would be who hadn't eaten for three days and had been writhing around in pain, to the extent that one can even writhe. Mary, who spends more time with him, was less enthused about the screaming. But I ascribe to Leslie's words of wisdom "If they're screamin they're breathin." How true, how true.

Wail though he might, it was pretty hard to make him smile. "Wuzzah wuzzah" fell flat. Even Peek-a-boo fell on deaf eyes. So when, as I was leaving, Mary was reading him an airplane book and he was actually smiling, I must say it was pretty moving.