Last night, he came in and said that his mom wasn’t doing so well, that she was getting weaker. (She has cancer.) And then, in the exact same tone of voice, with exactly the same intensity, he said that he was hungry and that he needed to find something to eat.
This morning, he was in the “office,” which is one end of our bedroom, on the computer, and I heard him gasp and then say, in a horrified voice, “Oh, no!”
I’m thinking, another terrible earthquake, killing hundreds, thousands of people? A horrific terrorist attack? Someone we know has died?
Then he says, “It’s going to get down to thirty-six degrees Monday night.”