Last night, I came home from work running a temp and it was decided that I should avoid the boy and that Eric should take over dinner.
This means out comes the mac and cheese with a side of applesauce.
Really the perfect thing for a daddy-dinner.
Plus Jackson loves it.
I started to well up with a bit of anxiety because as a parent, when I start to feel sick, my first thought is: "Oh no! What if Jackson gets this? What if he gets the throw-ups?"
To which Eric replied, "That's ok. I can take care of that stuff."
Sense of relief. I immediately flash back to my father, holding me on his knee explaining that it was ok to throw up on him because "That's what daddies are for."
My second thought: "Oh no! What if I get the throw-ups?"
Eric shrugs his shoulders. A mouthful of mac and cheese."It's ok," he says. "We'll deal with it."
Sense of relief.
I know it sounds ridiculous, and I know no one enjoys being ... ahem ... "sick" but I have an EXTREME aversion to the ... uh ... process.
But, Eric as usual was so nonchalant about the whole possibility it made me relax.
Maybe it was the fever talking, but afterwards I launched into this whole speech about how grateful I was to have Eric and how sometimes I just couldn't do this without him, and thank you so much and yada yada.
Eric, who just kept sliding individual macaronis onto the four tongs of his fork, looked up and said: "Oh babe, you would find somebody else. Most guys don't mind throw-up."