He woke up the next day, hooting and hollering excitedly and happily, exclaiming that he felt better, jumping around, running like crazy, and obviously feeling much better.
Sure, it had been quite awhile since he was last awake – I watched him sleep, and he had slept for the rest of the day that day that he was sick, and all through the night, all the way into the morning it was then.
His elbow was still scraped up, but it was mostly healed, to the point where he could take the bandage off his arm and dance around, with only a little pink, bare skin and small scabbing to show that he'd even had an injury at all.
He was obviously very happy. And I was glad that he was.
