Both boys have been sick, Owen especially had it really bad, with a 105 degree fever, the hottest we've ever seen in either kid.
But I digress!
For whatever reason, I am the current Parent of Choice, the one the kids want to sit next to at meals, the one they want to play with, read with, become surgically attached at the hip with. Especially Owen, who is in the temper tantrum dimension again, and so the whole neighborhood knows when Daddy commits the mortal sin of sitting next to him at the table.
It must be tough for Ben, as the parent on the outs, but he can console himself with this:
At night, when Owen calls out for water, or has a near-to-barf coughing fit, the person he asks for isn't me.