The other day, I was at CVS with my son. As we were checking out, my son picks up a box of Dayquil that was dangling enticingly by the register, and says, “Mommy, maybe we should pick up a box of this.”
I said, “Are you planning on getting sick?”
He said, “I was thinking more for you.”
“Am I getting sick??” I said. “Do you know something I don’t?”
He laughed a little.
“NO,” he said, embarrassed. “It’s just that literally like every day daddy tells me, ‘don’t bother mommy, she doesn’t feel good today.’ So I thought you could use the medicine.”
I turned around to look at him and he immediately thought I was mad at him.
“He does!” he defended himself.
“I know,” I said, “and I think that’s really really saaaad.”
And I cried.
Fake cried a little, but still.
I’m feeling shitty so often that my kids noticed and want to treat me. I am very sad about this.