TruMama

My gift to you this Christmas…the flu virus.  It all started so perfectly beautiful.  Presents everywhere.  Beautiful wrapping paper just waiting to be shredded to pieces by your little fingers.  Cool toys inside itching to be played with.  And you, being as excited as a 3 year boy should be, yet you open each gift respectfully and linger over your new treasure.  Not moving to the next package until we push you on and put another package in your hands.  We tell you all of the gifts are for you.  And at that moment your true spirit comes through.  Only you, with your big heart, could say, “But I want everyone to open a package. I’m so excited. I want everyone to open a gift.”  There you have it.  The most sweetest boy in the universe and in a few short hours your mama has given you the worst virus you’ve seen yet.  You certainly don’t deserve this, but me, wanting to do it all this season, only hurt you in the end.  I’m beside myself.  I want to fast forward time and get past this funk.  I want to reach deep inside of you and rip out the germ that has invaded your body.  I want to stomp it to death and maybe add a blowtorch for good measure. And if all that fails I’ll eat it so it would live in me and not you.  I just want your smile back.  Your precious voice with everything to say every second you’re awake.  And your never ending energy to be a super hero and me the bad guy…always the bad guy.  I’m so sorry my boy.