Cole and I were at Joseph Brant hospital around one in the morning early Monday. We were in the waiting room - an oddly familiar place now. And a gentleman came in with his daughter. While he was standing near Cole and I, waiting for his daughter to finish in the washroom, he looked at Cole and turned to me and said, "A touch of red, eh?"
I get this A LOT! Just earlier that day, at the Walk-In Clinic, a pharmacist had commented on Cole's hair, calling him BIG RED. So to the man at emerg's comment, I smiled knowingly, already anticipating what he'd ask next. It always came next. Where does he get it? Must be from your husband? Has he got Scottish in him?
So without missing a beat, I said to the man, "We don't know where he gets it." I was grinning dumbly, rather proud of myself for anticipating his unspoken thoughts.
But the man was silent in thought for a serious moment, then he said soberly, "How long's he had it?"
I looked at my son. Had what? Hair?
"Uh......" I looked at the man's concern, then back at my son, whom I now realized had a bit of a rash on his face (probably from the fever and the vomitting).
The man shrugged and before turning away offered, "...maybe allergies?"