By Richie Ann AshcraftSoren must think I can work miracles.... I got a call about 11 a.m. Friday saying he had spiked a temperature of 102 in the couple of hours I'd been at work. (Yeah, has it been a rough week!) I said give him the .125 dose of Tylenol and I'd be home in a bit. Arriving home, I found the poor thing lying belly down in his crib with wide unblinking eyes. His little body was emitting heat waves into the sick aura above him. I carried his limp body to my bed where we covered up and I let him nurse. I dabbed his forehead with a cool washcloth just like my own mother had done to me so many many years ago. I whispered words of encouragement and patted his sweating back. Miraculously he started to stir, fondling the washcloth and applying pressure to his own head. Soon his flushed cheeks and eyes like a baby doe turned toward me with a look of genuine appreciation. His fever had broke. A few more minutes and he began to jabber and wiggle. I cuddled him awhile longer before returning to work. That Tylenol works wonders but I'm sure my little boy gave me all the credit. I'm happy to let him think that.