by Shirley Bahlmann
Okay, we've all heard it, mothers are entrusted with the care and nurturing of children. That means in good times when they're performing and we watch and cheer, even if they're pulling their shirt over their head or hitting fouls or squeaking on the high notes. We're also in it for the bad times when they're running noses all over the house and coughing on the jello.
My 14-year-old just got over a bad case of the flu. One night when he was getting ready to sleep, I told him to take some Nyquil so he could rest. (Isn't that what they say in the commercial?) He said he couldn't take it because the warning label said not to if you'd been coughing for more than two days.
"Hey," I said, "We've talked to a doctor, it's fine!" But he still refused, until I called my doctor brother and had him tell my son over the phone that yes, he should take some Nyquil so his body could rest and heal.
After I hung up the phone, my son had poured medicine into the little plastic cup that comes with the bottle. He looked up at me and said, "Okay, Mom, I'm ready to take my shot of Mormon whiskey."
All I can say is, we mothers do the best we can. Really, we do.
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