Both kids have been sick for a few days and I am battling it as well. I remember one of the ways I knew The Girl was very, very sick in 5th grade was when she couldn’t read. That was a scary moment. But this time even at her sickest (Monday when her temperature hovered around 103°) she still was reading so I knew that she was basically OK. But she was reading old books. Books she had read before, stories she knew well and that she didn’t really have to think to hard about. In other words, comfort reading.
For me, comfort reading is the stories which I can dose in and out of and still know where I am and what is going on, Pern and Gaiman and Grimm. Or it is stories that are light and easy. No tomes of worth and import, not Dickens or Hemingway or Plato but Prachett and Hines and some YA reads. Not that the lessons in those latter are not as important and profound as those found in the former but I can read them without dropping off into coma-land.
So what do you crack open while you burrow under the covers and sip tea and recover?