Willie Weasel didn't feel well. His head hurt. The sun hurt his eyes. He felt hot.
"Mama," Willie said. "I think I am sick."
Mama Weasel felt his head. "Hmmm. You do feel a little bit warm. I will get the thermometer." She left her room.
Mama Weasel came back in just a minute. She took Willie's temperature. It was just a little bit high for a healthy weasel. She looked at his eyes. They were red.
"Lift up your shirt, Willie," Mrs. Weasel said.
"Why, Mama?" Willie asked.
"I think I know why you don't feel so well," Mama Weasel said.
Willie lifted his shirt and his mother looked at his tummy carefully. She pulled his shirt back down. "I was right," she said. "You have the measles. We have to go see Dr. Beezil Weasel."
Willie sighed. He liked Dr. Beezil Weasel. He didn't mind going to his office. He just didn't want to be sick.
Willie and his mother scurried to Dr. Weasel's office. Dr. Weasel took Willie's temperature. He looked at Willie's eyes. He looked at Willie's throat. He looked in Willie's ears. He looked at Willie's tummy. He looked at Willie's back.
"You are right, Mrs. Weasel," Dr. Weasel said. "Willie has the measles. Take him home and put him to bed. Be careful not to let other children be around him for four more days. You can put some lotion on his spots if they itch."
Mama Weasel thanked Dr. Beezil Weasel. She took Willie right home. She helped him get ready for bed. She tucked him in the bed.
"Mama," Willie said, "I'm so tired."