A lot of the coddling at our house revolves around food consumption. “Mom, I’m thirsty. Mom, I’m hungry. Mom, I want a snack.” The enabling mom concedes. (Consider this commentary, ‘the setup.’ Please continue.)

For the past six months of this pandemic, I’ve found my best moments of therapy to be playing in the dirt outside. On our underwhelmingly lightly scheduled weekends this summer, my husband has supported these therapy sessions by ‘keeping the kid away’ from me while I make some improvements.

On one particularly hot morning after moving some large shrubs from one part of the yard to another I took a break, sitting on our front steps. My son came outside to check out my progress… I’m sure to gauge when he and I would be reunited at the hip again. I explained to him that I needed a little time because I was very hot and hungry after working in the garden all morning.

My son looked at me and said, “Oh, okay! Momma, what would you like to eat? Would you like hamburger? A burrito? A bag of muffins?” I smiled at him and asked how he intended to make me a hamburger. He simply replied, “In the microwave.” Scared at the mess I would have to clean up after this good deed, I told him I didn’t need anything fancy but that I would love a snack. He smiled and jumped at the opportunity, slamming the door behind him and making a beeline to the pantry. He was inside for a few minutes and all I could hear were the kitchen cabinets clanging and a chair being dragged across the floor. What on earth was he preparing? I dare not go in during his independently caring moment.

When he emerged from the house, he had an entire raw russet potato on one of his non-breakable plates with a fork resting on the side.  “Here! A potato, just how you like it.” He placed the plate down on the step beside me and looked up with pride.

It was perfect. Best snack I never ate with the most fulfilled heart on earth.

With Love, Caroline