Thanksgiving at my sister's is always a crapshoot: which interesting disease will I catch from her daycare-attending nephews this year? (As my date later pointed out to me: Turns out it was a stomach bug -- probably because I was already on antibiotics from the cold I caught (that turned into a sinus infection) from them over Halloween.
You know how a stomach bug feels. When you can't move in case it makes you want to barf. How the smell of onions sauteeing in butter makes you want to die. And how all you want is your mom. Well, this time I was actually lucky enough to be sick near my mom. And she took care of me. In every perfect way.
She petted my head. She brought me toast. She encouraged me to take a shower when I really didn't want to, and sat in the bathroom, just in case I felt lightheaded in the shower. She did everything I've ever wanted someone to do when I'm sick. Because she's my mom.
I hate being sick, and I especially hate it when it takes me away from my nephews for a full day. But I am so incredibly thankful for my family, who not only took care of me, but took care of each other without me. My sister consoled me by swearing it would pass in 24 hours. My dad asked if I needed anything. My brother in law brought my littlest nephew's sleepy butt into my room so I could imagine myself patting it.
Every family has it's ups and downs, but I wouldn't trade mine for the world.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
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