the little man

In case you haven't heard, while waiting for her prescription for strep, I convinced Olivia that there is a little man that lives in her throat. He has brown hair, a gray beard, a little cap, and wears overalls. When she opens her mouth, he holds onto her uvula and hides, because he's so shy. We took pictures, and a video in hopes of trying to catch a glimpse of him. 

Last night, she woke up calling for me. I thought she had had a nightmare, or her fever had returned. No. She was concerned that she was losing her voice. I said that she wasn't. I told her that she didn't need her voice to sleep anyway and to go back to sleep.  She did. Again, she woke up calling for me. This time I went in and she had a panicked look on her face. I asked if she needed to go to the bathroom. She said, "no." I asked if she wanted to try just in case. She said, "yes." While using the restroom, she finally said, "mama, I think I'm making the little man's job harder." I nearly laughed in her face. She went on, "I think that every time I swallow, he has to hold on to my uvula so that he doesn't get taken down to my tummy and that's why my throat hurts. He's just going about his job, and then I go and swallow and ruin everything." She was near tears. I fought back the laughter and reassured her that the little man is safe and sound. He's there to get the infection and bad germs off of her throat and tonsils and she's actually helping him by swallowing, "kind of like flushing the toilet?" Yes, Olivia. Just like that. 

This morning, I walk passed the bathroom and see her standing on the toilet, leaning toward the mirror. I should have known that her response would've been, "trying to see the little man," when I asked what she was doing. I told her to go look for him in the mirror in her bedroom so she didn't fall off the toilet. She did, and continued for 20 minutes. 

I'm not sure how long this awesome figment of my imagination will last in her mind, but I'm going to ride it out as long as possible!