“Mommy, will you hold me?” My three and-a-half year old son whimpered and looked up at me with big pleading eyes. He was sick and wanted to be snuggled. How could I say no to those insistent baby blues? “Sure buddy. I’d love to hold you.”
Despite his faucet of a nose, croupy cough, and feverishly hot body, I was honestly thrilled to hold him close. Usually he is too busy running, wrestling, climbing, crawling, jumping, sliding… MOVING! He has no time to sit still, let alone cuddle with his mom. Continue reading
It looked like something out of a horror movie. One whole side of her face was covered in red. It splattered down her neck and blanketed her black and white checkered blouse. I’ll never forget the look on her face. It was a mixture of shock and dismay, followed by a round of unexpected giggles.
I breathed a sigh of relief at her kind reaction, hastily apologized, and then turned to face the perpetrator of this heinous act. My three and a half-year old looked up at me, eyes as big as saucers, the ketchup packet still crumpled under his hand. Continue reading