Everyone seems to have reached the point where alimentation has become less problematic. Though I will admit that I am no longer quite so cavalier about sleeping on the floor as once I was. And between one sleepless night on the kid's floor and a couple nights sleeping on the couch, and carrying my perhaps dwindling but still strapping 45-pound daughter around, I have strained my back. I am hobbling around the house, doubled up and lightly stoned on Wiggles videos. My wife has managed to suck it up sufficiently to go into work today and deliver a talk, while I am uncertain that I would trust the acuity of any business decision trusted to my care at this point.
We did manage to get in a viewing a couple of days back of the 1983 animated version of the Wind in the Willows and this perked up the kid somewhat on her sick bed. "Poop poop!" she was heard to exclaim happily from the wheel of her imaginary roadster. I imagine A.A. Milne would consider it a step in the right direction.