All better!

Thankfully, the strep throat was a short-lived malady.  Rebecca slept most of the day on Saturday and still ran a bit of fever that night.  By Sunday morning, however, she was back to playing and jumping and dancing and laughing, although she still had a lot of congestion and a voice that sounded like she hit a fifth of Jack every day while she smoked a pack of Camels.  By Monday, even the voice and snotty nose were all cleared up.  She still has a couple of days of antibiotics left, but we're ready to pronounce her cured.

Rebecca takes comfort in knowing that other people are sad that she's sick.  She told me on Saturday night, "I bet Grammy will be soooo sad that I'm sick."  I asked her if she wanted to call Grammy, but she told me that she couldn't because she was sick.  She did want me to send Grammy a message.  I thought it sounded like we were going to send her a telegram!  The message was: "Sick.  Rebecca Nee Cisneros.  And Nov [love]."  She repeated it to me twice in that fashion.  Later that night when we were in bed, she looked up at the crucifix and said, "I bet Jesus is very sad that I'm sick."  I assured her that He was always sad when we were in pain but that He knew she was going to be fine.  She said, "Well, but right now I'm still sick and I bet he's sad about it."