Pastel Colours

Day0706:05

The weekend blinked, and the cyclical Monday arrived as scheduled. Bubu wants to go to kindergarten, and Songran has to rush the piles of manuscripts. Mr. He, who is far away in a foreign country, wakes up in the morning and returns at night, facing a more terrifying devil working overtime than the previous week.

Every building in this metropolis, every family of three in every window, leads a similar life.

Busy, regular and happy.

Even if they can't get together, there is an extra ocean miss between each other, which is also a bitter happiness.

In the morning, when the first ray of sunlight entered the bedroom, Songran thought it would be a calm week-he and He Zhiyuan had a harmonious relationship and cultivated an ambiguous sense of intimacy. Bobu was sensible and independent, and never made people worry. . Life has been on the right track. For the next ten days, all he has to do is to live step by step and take care of Bobu by the way.

But he didn't expect that this **** life was unwilling to be lonely, and perseveringly dug him another big hole.

At six o'clock in the morning, Songran turned off the alarm clock, woke up Bobo, put on his coat and went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Wonton wrapper wrapped in meat with a large fingernail and rolled in boiling water. A layer of egg liquid is condensed into a golden egg wrapper in a small frying pan. Shrimp, vegetables and spring onions are placed in the middle, rolled with a spatula, and cut into three sections. plate. Then take a small bisque soup bowl, arrange the seaweed, shrimp skins and refined salt, and slide the small wontons along the wall of the bowl one by one, fill them with fresh soup, and serve them together with the egg rolls.

Breakfast was ready, but the house was quiet, the bedroom door was closed, and there was no sound of brushing teeth and washing face in the bathroom.

Little slacker is lying in bed today?

No, I obviously went to bed early yesterday.

Songran had a bad premonition, and hurriedly pushed the door in, opened the curtains to let the plenty of daylight illuminate the bedroom, and saw Bobu shrunk silently in the bed, his face flushed, and his skin was damp and hot. Sweaty hair clings to one side of his forehead, and the whole person is languid, like a small sunning leaf. He probed the child's forehead with the back of his hand, the temperature was terribly hot, he rushed to the bedside table and found an oral thermometer.

The mercury column started frantically upwards from the unmarked position, crossing 36 degrees, 37 degrees, 38 degrees, and approaching 39 degrees. Song Ran stared at the extremely fine scale, so nervous that he could barely breathe.

Eventually, the mercury column stopped just a fraction of 39 degrees away.

38.9 degrees.

Songran took out the thermometer and put it on her pillow, piercing her fingers deep into her hair, rubbing it a few times regretfully.

He is not good.

It was his negligence, and he was soaked in water by queuing to buy ice cream. Later, although I wiped it dry and changed into new clothes, I forgot to dry my hair.

Running in the wind for a few hours with wet hair on his head, he would have a fever if he changed.

Songran looked at Bubu's dizzy and painful face, feeling guilty in his heart. He ran to the living room, grabbed his wallet, keys, mobile phone, and wet tissues, filled a pot of warm water as quickly as possible, swept the egg rolls into the lunch box, stuffed these things into his shoulder bag, and held the cloth. Bu went to the hospital.

When He Zhiyuan bought the house, he didn't feel sorry for the money, so he chose the best location in District X, not only close to the kindergarten, but also only one block away from the F University Hospital.

Songran looked at the light spots within the walking range on the phone map, and was grateful.

He wrapped the cloth in a thick down jacket, covered his head with a hood, and was impervious to wind. He ran to the hospital in ten minutes and queued up for a pediatric account. The child is the treasure of the family. Usually the whole family rushes for the number. It is already out of a hundred at 7 o'clock in the morning. It takes a few hours to see the doctor. Songran was so anxious that he couldn't help burning his liver, so he had to wait in the waiting area under the pressure of Wu Ya.

Boob was thirsty, so he took out the kettle and poured some warm water. Bubu was hungry, so he opened the egg rolls with chopsticks and fed him small pieces. Most of the time Bobu is asleep, so he doesn't move and treats himself as a bed.

During the period, I took another body temperature, 39 degrees, which was 0.1 degrees higher than before.

Anxious, Songran glanced at his watch every few seconds, then raised his head to look at the electronic number plate. No matter how you look at it, I think the thing is probably broken, or why not skip a number for a long time?

He felt the feeling of every second.

The kindergarten opened at 8 o'clock, Songran called the teacher and said that Bubu had a fever today and needed to ask for leave. After nine o'clock, he received a call back from his teacher and learned a bad news.

In addition to Bobo, five other children in the same class also took sick leave.

The cause is chickenpox.

Spring is a period of high incidence of chickenpox in young children. Children live in the same room, eat and sleep and play together. It is easy to infect each other, so chickenpox cases in kindergartens are usually explosive. The teacher reminded Songran that Bobo's fever may not be due to a cold, but an early symptom of chickenpox, which requires special attention.

Compared with chickenpox, Songran rather **** is a simple cold and fever.

He hung up the phone, held Bobo to the brightly lit window, and carefully observed the little white face. Unfortunately, he really found a small red acne on the child's eyebrows. When he opened his bangs, he found the same two acne on his forehead.

Songran's heart sank, and he asked if it was itching, Bubu nodded uncomfortably, and subconsciously stretched out his hand to scratch. Songran hurriedly stopped him, and comforted: "It's okay, let's bear it, wait until the doctor uncle prescribes the medicine for you, and your body will not itch."

Bubu had developed acne and it was not difficult to diagnose. After calling the number, he only sat in the doctor's office for less than five minutes and came out.

It really was chickenpox.

Fortunately, in addition to the bad news, there is also good news that reassures Songran: Bubu had been vaccinated against chickenpox before. This time, the stroke was a breakthrough chickenpox. The illness is not serious, and it can be cured in three or four days. The doctor was not surprised, and ordered the precautions in terms of isolation, cleaning, and diet. After a few boxes of external medication, they were asked to go home and rest.

Songran went to the pharmacy to pay for the medicine, stuffed it into his shoulder bag, and returned to Bishuiwanju with Bobu.

He Zhiyuan is not at home, and Songran is the only one who can take care of Bubu.

This child belongs to him now, no matter whether he is healthy or sick, he must bear twelve points of responsibility.

He turned on the heating, took a warm bath for Bubu, put on clean pajamas, removed the sheets, duvet covers and pillowcases, and soaked them all in the disinfectant. Bobo just got chickenpox and was a little itchy. He couldn't help but want to scratch. Songran shorted his nails, rounded the edges and corners, holding his little hand and said: "You can't touch the red spots at will, if it gets itchy If you feel uncomfortable, you can hug the little rabbit or tell your brother that he will apply medicine to you, okay?"

Boob milky voice: "Okay."

If your child has chickenpox, eat a lighter lunch. Songran boiled a bowl of white rice porridge, served with a spoonful of pickles and fed it to Bubu, then drew the curtains, leaving him to rest in the room quietly. There was still a bowl of cold wontons left in the dining room. Songran heated it up in a microwave oven, took a few bites, and returned to the living room to start writing.

He had troubles one after another after drawing and plotting, but he couldn't stop working.

There are only more than 4,000 left in the bank card. I went to the hospital today and spent a lot of money. There will be other expenditures in the next ten days. He has to get the manuscript fee as soon as possible to survive.

In the afternoon, this manuscript depicts a small boat floating on the shallow water and next to a wooden bridge.

Wooden bridge.

It reminded Songran of someone.

There is also such a wooden bridge in the garden of Bishuiwanju. He once stood at the top of the bridge and saw a man looking back. A stunned glance from a distance, the first glance caught his heart, and since then disappeared into the vast sea of ​​people, no goodbye.

He put down the paintbrush, opened the drawer, and took out the precious sketch.

Behind the cleaned glass, the Infiniti male **** was as handsome as he had seen before—high nose, deep eye sockets, and eyebrows shaped like a sword. He smiled and raised the corners of his lips on one side. The thick lines rubbed a layer of paper, still releasing amazing male hormones.

Through the glass, Song Ran gently kissed his lips and pressed the photo frame into his arms.

Honey, do you really live here?

No, this is not very important to me anymore.

I originally came here just to get closer to you. I went to every corner of Bishuiwan Residence, every morning and twilight, trying to find your figure, but fortunately I found a baby who is cuter than an angel at the door of my house. I also met him who is very good and simple. Stupid dad who can't take children.

These experiences, accompanied by my love for you, suddenly came to me.

You brought it to me.

So, even if I have never had a chance to see you in the future, I don't feel sorry anymore. It is a beautiful thing to like you. It is like a string of wind chimes hanging by the window. When you touch the first one, the rest will also rotate, touch each other, and make a jingle sound.

I came after you and met them on the way.

This is a special kind of luck.

Songran put the portrait of the male **** back in the drawer and began to paint his "Little Wooden Boat Looking for Oars" seriously.

His speed has always been guaranteed. On average, he can catch up to 3 pages a day. Today, he stopped painting from time to time to take care of Bubu. This delayed a little progress. He rushed 2 pages in the afternoon, and the rest was going to stay up late to finish painting.

At dinner, Bubu was covered with sweat, his body temperature finally began to drop, and the burning was not so severe.

Songran opened the bedding, took the wet little otter to the bathroom, took a hot bath again, and dried his body with a sterilized towel. A few hours later, the red rash began to erupt in a concentrated manner, and a dozen tablets appeared one after another, with arms, calves, stomach, and face, causing a white and exquisite baby to be broken.

Bobo was so itchy, he was dragging and rubbing like a loach in Songran's arms, trying to sneak two hands, but was clasped by his little hand.

He looked at Songran aggrievedly and said, "Brother, itchy."

Songran said: "You have to try hard to resist the itch. These acne will be more and more scratched. As long as Bobu resists it, the illness will be cured in a few days, and it will not itch at all."

"But, but..." Bubu pointed to the little red dot on his stomach, "It's so ugly."

Songran smiled: "It's not ugly, it's not ugly, Bobu has always been cute. When you get better, the rash will all disappear without leaving a little scar, just the same as before."

"really?"

"Really."

Bubu twisted his body uncomfortably, "What if I can't help it?"

"If you can't help it, brother will apply medicine to you now."

He hugged Bubu onto the sofa and sat down, took out a tube of acyclovir ointment, carefully applied it to the chickenpox skin, let it dry, and then put on a small pajama for him.

Children's pajamas are one-piece, which can not be scratched much, and is relatively safe.

Seeing that Bubu was safe and sound, Songran warmed up a bag of fresh milk, put it in a bottle and gave it to him. He turned around and cleaned the bathroom. As soon as he came out, he bumped into Bubu scratching his face.

He quickly stopped: "Don't scratch!"

"No, I didn't scratch it."

Boob guilty of conscience, quickly put his two small hands behind him.