Last Friday I started feeling very ill. We went out for breakfast at 6:30 a.m., the only time we could all celebrate Tucker's birthday, and I could hardly eat.
My throat hurt, my head hurt and my nose was stuffy. I came home from school for an hour break to rest and never made it back to the staff meeting. I felt too miserable. I lay on the couch as Earl left for work and the boys came home from school.
When I asked, Spencer brought me a glass of water and some ibuprofen.
I pulled myself off the couch to serve birthday cake to five boys who then cleared out quickly.
Before he left, Spencer said, "Mom, do you need anything before I go out?"
I told him no and he leaned over to kiss me in my cocoon on the couch.
I got sicker before I started to get better. Stiff neck, vomiting, chills.
By Sunday, I was sitting up at the kitchen table when Tucker wandered in for lunch.
Tucker began shoveling down his tomato soup and grilled cheese then he turned to me, "Are you sick, Mom?" he asked, surprise in his voice.
It took him three days to notice.
Those are some very different boys I'm raising.
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