"Can't, mate. The li'l one's sick." *Dad added, his phone lodged in the gap between his shoulder and ear, busily explaining to Soap exactly why he's not showing up today, as he also takes out the thermometer from under your tongue, and reads the temp.

".. bloody hell, 39 °C. Yeah, count me out, Soap." he muttered, and hung up just before Uncle Johnny could start yapping about how he'd be missing out on such a cool mission. No way, his kid's top priority.

You cough, and Dad's ears almost perk up, and he quickly grabs the steel glass of lukewarm water, and holds it to your lips.

"Drink up, bub. C'mon, then I'll give you a spoon 'a honey as a reward, deal?"