DS seemed lethargic and warm a few days ago. I asked him how he was feeling. He answered, "I'm a pony," then wiggled into a lump on the floor.

I stared at him incredulously, exasperated. He often doesn't answer questions, or gives answers that seem (to me, at least) disconnected from the discussion at hand.

He noticed me waiting and said, "I'm a little hoarse," in what was, admittedly, a gravelly voice, his eyes twinkling.

Okay, kiddo, well played. Thankfully he got over the cold in a little over a day.
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Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.