Yesterday when I was at work Jackson's school called. They said he had a fever and was lethargic and if I could I should take him home. I ran to my car crying. After all, isn't that what happened to that kid in Colorado? Sudden fever and then wham! Dead! Our pediatrician's receptionist had already laughed wanly when I called about flu shots last week, so immediately I started charting the fastest route to the emergency room.

I carried him into the apartment like a broken little eggshell, gave him some Motrin (No aspirin! Reye's Syndrome!), put him to bed, sat down next to him, and stared, willing his fever to go down.

This morning he woke up and demanded a lollipop, so I think he's going to make it. Then I read this: About three dozen children have died from influenza or its complications, David Daigle, a spokesman for the centers, said. But, on average, 92 children die every year from influenza.

Hey! It's not unusual for children to die every year. Um, yay.