Thought.

by Ashley Weeks Cart

I want her to feel well enough to play with her blocks so contentedly. To confuse the word “on” and “off.” To demand the “blue” version of everything and anything. To refuse to count using the number four (1-2-3-5!). To ask, “Mommy play blocks! Daddy make airplane!” To not toss and turn in puddles of her sweat as she battles a raging fever. To not cry out in the middle of a sound sleep due to aches and pains.

I want to absorb all the yuck so that she can go back to being our Sunshine, without all the sick baggage.