weak or too thin

there is a tapping on the arm. Something is tapping on the right arm, it is not the way the cat does it, It is the son, tapping for attention. Open the eyes, see him looking on in the twilight of early morning.
He says Cafe? He is up early and wants to go to the cafe.

Assent.

Then see that he is still wearing his thin night clothes, and that he is cold.
Ask him if he wants to cuddle.

He does, and crawls in under the blanket.

He is fifteen years old, that is all right to be in bed with his father in the morning.
It is good against the cold.

Later, we leave the house together, both in day clothes. Shiver, though it is not cold. Walk slowly, to walk faster is a major effort. There is cold seeping in through the cracks in the clothing, at the neck. It is nasty. Look forward to the warmth and comfort of the cafe.
It is noisy and steamy, the voices jarring on the nerves, shattering any feeling of relaxation. The coffee tastes too weak or too thin, though it is the same as always. And the shivery cold has followed into the warm cafe, there is a headache now.
But the son enjoys his sandwich, and his coke.
So there is something good in the day.

Later in the morning, back at home, go into the bed and rest.

Awake at one in the afternoon.
This is what having caught a cold is like