Sometimes, the littlest things can have the biggest impact. Let me tell you a story.
A couple of nights ago, Q -man and I were at home. I had just come down with some child-induced cold or plauge or something, and was feeling totally yucky. I had a nose that wouldn’t stop running, a cough, and my body ached like I had been beaten by a bunch of people with bats in my sleep. In short, I was feeling miserable.
I had been blowing my nose so much that I had gone through a box of Kleenex already, and thought that we didn’t have any in the house. I was feeling far too yucky to drag my sorry self out to the drug store to get more. At that point in the night, I cared so little that I switched to paper towels. As I sat on the couch feeling sorry for myself and watching yet another video with the Q-man, I sneezed, looked around, and saw nothing to clean myself up with. “How lovely”, I thought to myself. I asked Q to go and grab me a paper towel from the kitchen.
Off he went, and although I could hear some shuffling around in the kitchen, I just figured he was trying to rip a towel off the roll. After a couple of minutes, I should have gotten suspicious, but in my cold-induced haze, I didn’t really think anything of it. Q returned to the living room, with some ruffling paper noises accompanying him. He said “I can’t get it open!”. “Oh no!” I thought, wondering what he had gotten himself into this time. I looked over to him, and saw him holding a box of Kleenex. Brand new. He handed it to me, and said “For you Mummy.”
I nearly cried. That one little gesture meant so much to me, much more than his 3 year old self could understand at the time. I was so proud of him at that moment. Somehow he knew that Kleenex would be way nicer for me than a paper towel would be, and so he went looking and found it.
I love that kid.