![]() ![]() ![]() I remember the sticky spoonfuls of grape cough syrup and the honey cough drops my mom kept in her purse. Then just a few minutes later, noticing how I’d start to breathe easier and be able to fall asleep. I remember her rubbing Vicks VapoRub on my chest at night when I was congested, the familiar smell seeping up into my nostrils. I remember her coming home with chicken soup from my favorite deli. I remember her pouring me warm baths because I always felt better after. I have so many memories of the things my mom did for me when I was sick. I thought it tasted delicious and remember it making me feel very grown-up. I know a kid with coffee sounds strange (particularly at night!), but I hated milk, so my mom used to make a pot of decaf, pour a splash in a mug with mostly warm milk (just enough to change the color from white to tan) and then add sugar, hoping that the warm liquid would help me relax and make it easier to fall asleep. I remember sitting in the den watching television with all my stuffed animals and blankets piled around me on the couch, sleeping off a bad cold in my mom’s bed (which I always found way more comfortable than my own) and sipping warm coffee with my mom in the kitchen, both clad in our pajamas, late at night, when I couldn’t fall asleep. ![]() When I think back on my childhood and the moments I remember with my mom, I actually have a fondness for the days I stayed home sick. ![]()
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