I'm annoyed with myself.
On Sunday we met up with friends at the Fairfield Boat House. It was quite foggy and therefore quite cold, too. The place was packed and we didn't reserve a table, so we had to sit outside. Normally I hate sitting outside: there are notable exception, but usually sitting outside means you either get to smoke cigarette exhaust fumes or you freeze to death.
Trouble was we were already late (had to wait for Dylan to wake up from his morning nap) and our friends were already pretty settled by the time we had arrived, so I didn't have the guts to say I hate freezing myself. Yes, I'm still very much a warm weather person, even if by now I can't stand warmth along the lines featured in Israel.
Anyway, turns out my lack of guts had a pretty severe effect: Dylan, who just came out of a cold, had suffered a severe ear infection again. He was weird on Monday and by Tuesday evening he had quite a fever. It's pretty clear, given this susceptibility to ear infections, that the cold of the Fairfield Boat House has got to him: timing wise it's a perfect match with the normal course of a cold.
I keep thinking of Dylan's current misery, the damage it does (we've lost two working days this week alone, plus doctor fees and other expenses), and the ease with which it could have been prevented. If I just bothered thinking about it on time!
I interpret the incident to be yet more evidence for the importance of routine in handling babies. If you have an effective routine, it's quite amazing how easily straying off it for just a tiny bit could bite you back.
I was recently called upon to go and see the new Indiana Jones by a friend who is not a parent (not yet, anyway). It's amazing how simple life can appear to people with no kids; I clearly remember the way I used to look at things back on those days of yonder. Let me tell you this: If watching Indy means risking the routine in the tiniest of ways, then screw Indy; we'll meet in six moths with the DVD anyway.