Tuesday, December 4, 2012
A Post About Boy & His Sick Pregnant Mother
My Anson is sort of a warrior. He likes justice and truth and adherence to laws. Where there is breaking of codes or covenants Anson is there reminding with a stern disappointed demeanor. If Ever steals the iPad, silently smuggling it into her room to watch a Netflixed dynamic episode of Dora, he will sniff out the perpetrator and report her to the authorities post-haste. And most of the time his duties are done in alter-ego--a transforming robot who makes the ch-ch-ch sound when he moves his clunky metal body throughout the house.
But yesterday Anson was just Anson. He watched PBS for awhile, he said he wanted to "play alone in my room" for half hour and he picked through our crowded tiny-toys bin looking for suitable toys that could fit into the palms of his human flesh hands. He unloaded the dishwasher when I asked and he "babysat" Squishy while I ran downstairs to print some papers.
And in the mid-morning I felt queasy and started to gag.
"Hurry Mom," Anson yelled, "to the garbage."
I ran covering my mouth with a full face of fingers. I opened the garbage lid and started to purge but the lid snapped back and I misfired.
"Mom, I'll hold it for you," Anson said positioning into action.
And as I heaved he held that garbage lid like a sentential at the citadel. And every few gasps he'd say,
"Good Mommy, you are doing good."
Moments later after I thought I was done and wasn't--in the middle of picking up toys in the kitchen hallway-- I ran again to the salmon-colored sink for round two. My hands were full of toys and bags with pita chips for the girls. But as sputtered and spit, I noticed my hands were suddenly free to wipe my face with cold water.
When I looked down there was my Anson, his arms full of toys and bags with pita chips. He had stealthy taken the objects away as I stood bent over the sink in agony.
"I'll hold these for you Mommy."
All the while as I continued lunge and purge I thought about my son's future wife, the lucky woman who gets to marry such an earnest hero.
Sweet, little reminders of good things...
Tomorrow is the last day to bid on these brilliant angel originals by J. Kirk Richards and help the Women and Children in Crisis. See my post here!
Do you have your tickets for the Lower Lights show next week? No? They are selling out! Buy quick! It's a gorgeous concert in a beautiful spot and you will never, ever forget it! Last year's concert continues to make me cry. See you there!