Broken sleep last night. Still sickish, I was up every few hours. At one point – around 4 in the morning – I got back into bed and Ethan turned over, opened his eyes, and propped his head up to ask a question.
“Gram snackenquark brannel flark mindel?” That’s the best I can reconstruct it. I don’t remember the exact gibberish, but it was decidedly not English. His accent was his normal American English, but I thought it might be tired Spanish, so I didn’t laugh quite yet.
“Say that again?”
He repeated himself verbatim. “Gram snackenquark brannel flark – oh, never mind. I don’t have the real words.” Frustrated, he stopped talking and put his face back down on the pillow.