Yesterday was apparently not a good day to be a Ted.
Our poor little boy woke us at 0830 after a rather cough-ridden night and came and sat with us on the bed as normal, but wasn't really interested in his milk.
After breakfast, at around 1030, he started asking for sleep. "Oh right, that's likely" we said to ourselves, but he persisted so we took him upstairs and went through the sleep routine. Sure enough he settled down and slept through to 1330.
He seemed much perkier when we woke him for some lunch and we managed to play a little in the garden (and demolish the budleia, by the way) but then wasn't interested in tea - he just wanted to sleep again (he said).
So we took him upstairs and got him ready for bed. And he went down fine, waking at around 1900 very unhappy. Nikki went in to see him and he looked up pitifully with flushed face and just said "cuddle". Poor fellow was panting and very flushed - but the traditional dose of paracetamol seemed to help, as did the fuss we made of hime while Nikki examined him (he really did seem unwell).
To finish on a happy note - today he came back from nursery where he had apparently been "full of beans" all day (and had even managed seconds of nursery tea) and had a lovely splashy bath time. *phew*.