Last Sunday was a triple-header party. Both Francis and Christopher were celebrating their birthdays, at Sue’s house, on the same day as their neighborhood block party.

Nate ate several desserts and had just the best time watching his cool older cousins ride their bikes and be cool. The first words out of his mouth on Monday morning were, “Wasn’t that a great party, Daddy?” We talked about it a lot over the next few days.

Wednesday afternoon, I got a call from day care. Nate had caught the 12-hour stomach bug and needed to go home. I caught the next train and went in to pick him up.

He was sitting on his teacher’s lap, pale as a ghost, huddled in his blanket. I picked him up, and he threw up on my shoes. Then he looked up at me, and said, “That was a great party, huh, Daddy?”