I wrote this on my sidebar – under “About”
It’s hard to make chicken noodle soup for yourself when you’re sick. There should be a “dial some soup” hot line for mammas when they’re sick – make a call and a big homemade pot gets delivered half an hour later.
But then I remembered this.
At five thirty I had just set the oven to preheat – we only eat freezer meals, remember? – and no sooner had I pushed the button than a knock came at the door. I made my way to the door – still in my PJ’s, hair unbrushed, teeth unbrushed, but whatever.
And there was my neighbor Tiana, with rolls and cookies and even pudding and Jello for Calvin. A few minutes later Nicole arrived with homemade chicken noodle soup. Because they had seen/read on Facebook about little super Cal and had plotted together to bring us dinner.
And I wanted to cry.
And I was even so overcome by loveliness of it all that I ate my own bowl of soup. (Which is the first time I’ve eaten after 5:00 in two months).
Maybe I should make a GIANT pot and then call around the neighborhood and see who else is sick.