country music and pneumonia

We spent the weekend in Atlanta minus boys. We had concert tickets, a hotel reservation, and several errands to accomplish on the following day. I should have expected something to go wrong. I mean, isn’t it just the unspoken rule that if you buy tickets to anything several months in advance, you will have a car break down, or a flooded basement, or a kid that pops 101 degrees the night before? We started noticing Jon was sick Friday night. He had a fever and was pretty lethargic, but other than that we couldn’t pinpoint anything specifically wrong with him.

We’re still pretty new to the Asthma thing, so I don’t always recognize the symptoms of breathing distress right away, especially if they are subtle. But as we rolled through Auburn on our way to leave the boys with my parents for the weekend, it started becoming pretty clear that something was bad wrong. Per my dad’s advice we pulled into the closest Urgent Care. One CBC and chest xray later we had a diagnosis of Strep with a side of Pneumonia. They wasted no time getting him on medication. He was a vastly different kid when I talked to him on the phone later that night during the stage change between Eric Church and Toby Keith.  

We only have horrid iPhone photos from the concert, but just imagine us halfway back in the middle of the amphitheater with wads of tissue stuffed in our ears, inhaling beer fumes and privately poking fun of the lady dressed for Halloween as “Toby Keith’s biggest fan”. It was a crazy good time, evidence by my sore face the next morning, courtesy of wearing a ear-splitting grin for four hours straight.

We were touristy in Atlanta the next day.

This guy. Best. Friend. Ever.

The drive home after we picked up the boys was the most hysterical car ride I’ve ever experienced, provided by the kid on steroids, the husband on espresso, and Hampton the Hamster on iTunes. If the car could talk…