Mr. Compassion
My family is sick. Today is my lucky day. Yes, I realize those first few sentences go together like pizza and warm tap water but for a guy who’s been taken care of all these months, it’s my turn to give back. A sniffly wife? “There, there honey, what can I fetch you?” A tired, […]
My family is sick. Today is my lucky day.
Yes, I realize those first few sentences go together like pizza and warm tap water but for a guy who’s been taken care of all these months, it’s my turn to give back.
A sniffly wife? “There, there honey, what can I fetch you?”
A tired, groaning daughter? “Hey girl, would you like some yummy Jell-O?”
It’s not like the sum total of all their pills would even come close to matching my current daily ingestion amount. Heck I take pills to counteract the other pills I take to help me consume the first ones.
I’m happy being the helper. Oh sure, they’re sick, I get that. But right now it makes me feel better. I need a shrink I think.
It could be just a matter of moments before I come down with what they have. My immune system is still being kept low with all the pills from a few paragraphs ago. But in this sweet spot where I reside right now, I get to play the compassionate caregiver. Pay no attention to that sneeze I just stifled.
My ladies mean everything to me. If you read my book you’ll remember they’re even more special than frozen coffees. So turning the tables and looking on them with sympathy and benevolence is a gas. They can see the caring and nurturing in my eyes, much like they’ve had in their own eyes since about forever ago.
I’m a good person again. My joy in their illness proves it.
