How My Son Was Almost Assaulted- A story of woes

The living room was littered with toys and empty bottles of Gatorade. It was still early, and the night before had been a long one. What had been the first night of my husband’s weekly travel started off like any other- dinner with my son followed by a bath and bedtime. However, at approximately one-thirty in the morning I received a summons to Luke’s bedroom. I’ll spare you the details, but a full-on stomach virus had just dirty bombed Wescott Manor.

By the time I had Luke showered and back in bed with fresh sheets it was almost 3:00 AM. Again, two hours later I was awakened by the pitter-pat of little feet as they scurried down the hall and to the bathroom. Lather, rinse, repeat. By mid-morning we were both tired of staring at each other and I began to ponder what I could feed this sick child of mine whom I love more than life itself.

That’s when he said it. For no apparent reason he simply stretched his arms over his head, yawned and said, “I wish I had come out of Daddy’s tummy and not yours.” I quickly scanned the room and realized that there was no one to hold me back. “Keep it together,” I told myself. “He’s just a sick four-year-old and you’re a tired thirty-” (The voice trailed off). So what if I risked my pelvic floor the day he was born? The point is that I’m the adult in this situation, and I do NOT have another kid to fall back on if something happens to this one. So I swallowed my pride, pulled up my proverbial big girl boxer briefs, and fixed his lunch while barely muttering, “So do I, son. So do I.”

Navy Seals have a saying, “The only easy day was yesterday.” That’s why I’m not a Navy Seal. I was totally on board with it until I heard that quote. The fact is this, if I lived my life thinking “Well, today was a bitch, but wait til you see tomorrow,” then I would probably be a cutter. Tomorrow will be better. It WILL. Now, I think I’ll go fast-rope out of a Chinook helicopter onto the top of a liquor store. Peace.

The offender can be seen here, on the left, cheating at a game of
Hungry, Hungry Hippos with his left hand full of white marbles.
I played that game as a kid, and come to find out, those hippos are still hungry today.
Somebody really should call PETA.