Today I woke up feeling under the weather. Punk. Peaky. A scratchy throat and a headache and general physical malaise. Surely the start of something nasty. I will take a sick day. Which is when I call in to nowhere and tell no one that I won't be coming in to the nothing today.
But truly, I am gifted at this. Just because you don't have an office to go to doesn't mean you cant take a sick day. And you must call it a sick day or you might sneak in a load of laundry. Okay that's silly - I don't even do laundry when I'm feeling good. That was just so you would think I'm industrious.
So I read a little, I try to nap, I talk on the phone too much and laugh too loudly which gives me a bigger headache. It had something to do with me using the word "anal" in a very unintended way. Seriously, I meant that we have a tendency to pay attention to detail. From now on, I will just say that - we have a tendency to pay attention to detail.
When Liam gets home from school, he asks how I'm feeling. Which is so grown up. I say I'm only ok. Still sick.
And then he asks for my phone. And I'm like "seriously, can't you talk to me for 5 minutes without your precious angry birds?" But he says, "no, I have to make a phone call."
"What? What are you talking about? Since when do you make phone calls? Do you even know how to dial a phone? Do you know what "dial" means? Who are you calling?"
"I can't tell you."
"Is it Max?"
"Is it Daddy?"
"Yes. I need some privacy, please."
Oh........ok. So I slip around the corner to eavesdrop.
And I hear him tell Mike that Mom isn't feeling well and she needs a coke from the drive-thru. Could he please bring home a coke from the drive-thru?
Especially because my coke addiction (and by that I mean my coke from the drive thru addiction. Damn these double meanings!) has recently been officially outed. By a 2nd grader, no less. And the 2nd grader has shamed me into ordering water in restaurants and sneaking shots of Pepsi when no one is looking.
But still, the 2nd grader knows when a girl needs a friend. Even if it's full of high fructose corn syrup and carbonation and phosphoric acid and sweet sweet caffeine. Liam knows what I need WITHOUT BEING ASKED and takes the initiative to get it for me. Most 43 year old men can't do this, even if they've been sleeping next to this woman for 21 years. I'm not talking about anyone in particular - just, you know, in general.
And, for the first time, it occurs to me: Liam is some serious husband material. Seriously good. If he shows this kind of emotional intelligence when he's in 2nd grade, his wife can count on some amazing treatment when he's 43.
And then, I can see my future - I don't have to worry about dying alone in a substandard care facility! This, friends, is why we have children! So that someone will bring us cokes from the drive thru when we're in the home! A really nice home that Liam picked out for its above average amenities.
Damn, if that doesn't perk me up.