My sweet two-year-old granddaughter experienced her first bout of the stomach flu this weekend. She tried to tell me that she was in pain (which was obvious), but she had no words for ‘nausea’ or ‘gastric distress’. So she had to show me, by emptying the contents of her stomach onto my going-to-the-theater clothes.
Poor little sugar plum, not only in pain but frightened by that bizarre event. I wiped and cuddled and soothed, and she clung to me. “You not leavin’ me, Mama. You not leavin’ me!”
No, baby. Mama definitely can’t go anywhere now. It’s not that Papa couldn’t take good care of you. But you want me, and I want you to know that you can depend on me.