How genius am I?
I remember, when I was a kid, my sisters and I getting sick. And I remember my mom being just as sick. But still, she held heads, rubbed backs, and kept cool clothes handy. At the time, I didn’t think much beyond the fact that she’s Mom. Now, I know she was superwoman.
I’m not quite there yet.
I have to admit, I had a hard time dragging myself from the couch when Joseph started yelling he was going to throw up. I walked to him, my feet like lead. I held his head, rubbed his back, helped him rinse his mouth, and then I called my mom.
“Mommy, can you come help me?” I heard myself say.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“I’m sick,” I moaned. “Can you come take care of me and the kids?”
She laughed. “I didn’t take care of you when you were sick as kids. Your dad did.”
Oh yeah.
“Can Dad come then?” I asked, my voice wavering for dramatic effect.
“You’ll be fine.”
“Then can you come and take care of your grandkids?”
“If I was less than two hours away, I would. Get some rest, dear.”
I moaned again. Very dramatically. “I just want my mom.”
“I know, honey. Get some rest. You’ll be fine. I love you.”
I hung up the phone, feeling better. And when Joseph cried that he was going to be sick, I hauled myself off the couch and helped him.
“I’m glad you’re here, Mama,” he said a little later as he snuggled in my arms. “You make me feel better.”
Maybe I’m on my way to being superwoman after all.
