Return of "The Mother"

I came down with a bug this week. I was tired, achy, feverish and just downright in the dumps. I sequestered myself to a bedroom for two days as to keep mom from getting sick(er).

I was going to leave and make the long drive home. But that, as she put it, would be like closing the barn door after the horse got out. Whatever I had she had likely been exposed to - most viruses have a several day incubation period before the person shows any symptoms.

So, I stayed in the bedroom. Door shut. I wiped down knobs after I touched them. We were never in the same room at the same time. At least that was the plan.

When a child gets sick around his or her mother, "the mother" in the mother comes out.

"Can I make you some soup?" mom asked several times while peering through the cracked door into my darkened lair of microbial activity.

"No, mom. I'm fine. Can you shut the door?" I replied, hoping my toxic airborne pathogens hadn't found her yet.

I was in the kitchen during my episode one day. I heard her say from the other room, "Don't worry, I will do the dishes."

No, she is not doing dishes. I quickly unloaded the clean dishes from the dishwasher and piled in the dirty ones. I knew "the mother" had re-emerged. And if I let mom be "the mother" it could turn into a mother of a problem. She still has limited energy.

I can guess it has been about five days since whatever I had began festering in my cells, and she has not gotten sick (my husband is). I have recovered.

Now, "the mother" in mom is quiet once again.