Day 7: Sneaky Temperature Check

The seven-year-old stared up at his father, eyes wide. Jeff bit his lip.

He needed to hold firm. But those blue eyes, so bright – too bright – had proved for seven years to be his undoing. Along with those damn dimples. Jeff felt his resolve weaken.

'Daddy. Are you alright, Daddy?'

Jeff blinked and shook himself. He'd put his hands on Scott's shoulders and was just standing there.

'I'm fine Scott.'

He crouched down beside his eldest. The boy's eyes just continued to stare at him as Jeff checked him over with his eyes.

Seven and such a powerhouse, Scott was trying to convince his father with his eyes that he was fine. No matter that he was so obviously coming down with a cold. He tried really hard not to wipe his about-to-drip nose with his sleeve as Scott put all his 'I'm fine' vibes into trying to persuade his Dad to let him go camping with the scouts tomorrow.

Knowing that Scott was desperate to go camping with his Rescue Scout troop tomorrow, yet knowing that he was ill, tore Jeff up inside, but he couldn't let Scott go if he was ill. He also knew that if he made too much of a fuss now, Scott would simply get obstreperous.

And his eldest's temper was something to be avoided if at all possible.

Luckily, Jeff had had seven years to find ways around his son's temper. He held his hand out and was grateful when Scott took it.

'Let's go find your brothers.' A request Scott was more than happy to comply with. Gordon was asleep in his cot, so they didn't go in. Virgil was sitting under the piano, drawing. John – John was curled up on the couch, head in their mother's lap, blanket over him.

Lucy, seeing Jeff with Scott, smiled and put a finger to her lips. She'd only just managed to get John to drop off.

Scott turned to his Dad, a frown on his face. 'What's wrong with John, Daddy?' Jeff bent down and picked Scott up.

'John's got a temperature and doesn't feel well. He's probably got a cold coming.' Scott frowned again. John had been fine this morning. 'Do you want to see what a temperature feels like, Scotty?' He was gratified when the child nodded.

Scott was held carefully over his sleeping brother, and he reached down tentatively and placed his hand on John's forehead. He took it away quickly, glancing at his father. 'He's hot, Daddy.' Jeff pulled him away and sat with him on the other couch.

'Now, put your hand on my head and see how hot I am.' Scott did so, curious.

'You're not hot, Daddy.'

'No, I should hope not. I'm not ill. How about you, Scott?'

Without waiting for Scott to respond, Jeff placed his own hand on his forehead. 'Ooh, Scott, you seem to be quite hot too!' He took Scott's hand and placed it on his own head. 'Do you feel it, Scott?'

Scott nodded. 'I'm hot, Daddy. Does that mean I'm ill too?' Jeff nodded gravely. 'Do I have to sleep on the couch too?' Jeff chuckled.

'No, son, you can sleep in your bed.'

Scott pouted. Jeff hesitated, hopeful that he could get through to his son before the fireworks started.

John stirred and turned over, distracting Scott from the argument he was about to put forward. Jeff took the distraction as a gift.

'Scott, I have a job for you.' That got Scott's attention. 'I need you to look after your brother this weekend. John's not well, and with Gordon still very much a baby, Mom's going to be busy. Also, We don't want Virgil to get ill as well. So, I need you to look after John, please.'

Scott thought. He wanted to go camping, but the need to look after his brother was more pressing. It didn't take much thinking about.

'Ok, Daddy. I can do that.'

And Jeff sighed in relief.