The Old Blog in the Desert

“You don’t look too good, kiddo.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Lemme feel your forehead. Exactly what I thought – you have a fever. Get undressed and climb back in bed. I’m gonna get the thermometer.”

“Not the butt one!”

“No, — not the butt one — the one you put under your tongue.”

“Mom still uses the…”

“I’m not your mom,” I interrupted.

“Good.”

Three minutes later, “A temp of 101.”

“That’s dangerously high. Maybe you should take me to the doctor.”

“What? Why?”

“My teacher says that a temperature of 41-degrees can kill a person.”

“What kind of non-sense is that? A temp of 105 or higher will kill you – cooking your brain inside that hard-head of yours.”

He had showed the wrinkle of confusion between his brows as he listened.

“At 41 degrees your body is practically freezing and you have a fever of 101, so you ain’t freezing, kiddo. And 98-point-six is normal and you’re only slightly higher than that.”

“Then I don’t understand – if 98-point-six is normal, what’s 37-degree?”

“Ah-ha! You’re talking Celsius verses Fahrenheit. They’re two different systems of measurement, son.”

“Oh, good – so I’m not going to die.”

“No, you’re not gonna die.”

“I feel better already, Dad.”

“Good. Now, lay back and get some rest while I go make us some homemade chicken noodle soup.”

“You have a fever, too?”

“No, I don’t,” I said with a smile, “But I’m not gonna let you have all of the soup to yourself, kiddo.”

As I shuffled into the kitchen, I made a mental note to talk to the academy about the new science teacher from British Columbia.