Mother of Son: Guilty as charged.
I had an aha moment and realized that husbands are helpless patients when they are sick because their mother's babied them.
Side note: I know for a fact that it was a turning point in our dating relationship, when my husband was really sick and I kept him company at his apartment all day. Just being there.
Yesterday Christopher woke up with "burning" in his stomach. It was shortly after 4am and for the next couple hours he would roll around in his bed saying, "It burns. It burns."
I flashed back to being sent home from the hospital for the second time, and the doctor telling my husband to just keep talking to me about anything. It would help keep my mind off the contractions.
So I sat with Christopher and explained what happens with viruses. We talked about our colons, intestines and food digestion. I told him something had to come out one way or the other and then he would feel better.
Finally all of the above happened.
Christopher cried apologies to me while he was standing over the toilet and I was standing over the trashcan. I said, "It's not your fault that I have a weak stomach. Don't worry about me."
With all the hacking commotion, Papa Bear came to the rescue. I had been quite unsuccessful at clean up, even while holding a giant wad of paper towels up to cover my mouth and nose.
After that initial cleanup, Christopher asked me if I was okay. Again, I told him not to worry about me. But I pleaded for him to try to make it toilet next time.
The day got worse for Christopher before it got better. It was approaching lunch time and he hadn't wanted to eat anything. So I asked, "How about some soup and crackers?" He asked, "The white crackers?" Even though we had six sleeves of Ritz, I complied saying, "Yes, I'll get some white crackers." He decided on "the ABC soup" as opposed to noodles, O's or stars.
While I was in the store looking for the things he likes, I hear my mother's voice:
"One day you are going to have a son and you are going to do the same thing..."
I used to shake my head at her for spoiling my brother and doing things for him that he could do for himself.
Ignoring her voice, I was already envisioning the presentation of the soup and white crackers.
Christopher couldn't eat more than a few bites. He said he could still smell "it", so I sent him off for a shower while I removed his sheets. His shower ended abruptly as he said he couldn't stand up that long. I ran the bath water while he sat in the tub and proceeded to wash his hair and his back. He said, "This is embarrassing isn't it?" I said, "I'm not embarrassed." This is what mother's are for. I left him to finish up and told him to get in my bed.
The long day continued with wash, rinse, repeat. I had been keeping him company sitting on the other side of his bed while reading when he woke up asking, "Is this the part where I attack?" I said, "Huh?" He repeated himself.
He had a fever and I dosed him with Tylenol. Every 10 minutes or so I pressed my cheek to his forehead to make sure he wasn't getting worse.
By nightfall he was feeling better, and his temperature had returned to normal. He said, "I sure hope you don't get sick mom." I said, "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
We finally parted ways and I kissed his forehead saying I was glad he was feeling better.
I was in my room for just a few minutes and I received this text:
I think the quickest way to a man's heart, even a little man's heart, is just being there.
While I won't always buy the white crackers, I won't feel guilty for ruining him in other ways.
Sorry future daughter-in-law.