Nathan the Sicko

I knew something was wrong when Nathan didn't finish his breakfast that morning. Nathan is just not the kind of kid who leaves a plate not practically licked clean. He seemed fine until mid-afternoon when he lay on the couch for a good hour until Brad came home. Alynna had been sick the weekend before (while we were camping) so I didn't even try to feed him dinner. After a while he told me weakly that he just wanted to go to bed. His tummy hurt. I tucked him into bed and asked if there was anything else I could get for him to make him comfortable.
Nathan is my sensitive little guy. His heart breaks for people and he's easy to forgive. He's quick to shed a tear or two over sad stories, lost coloring books, and other slightly disturbing parts of life. That night, as I tucked him, I could see he was fighting back tears. His face looked a bit limp as he spoke. He looked tired. He weakly said, "Yes. Can you please leave the door open so I can call you whenever I want something and then you can bring it to me?"
Um... this mom wasn't born yesterday. Words like "whenever" and "you can bring it to me" (and the fact that my kitchen counters weren't visible under cleaning projects and perishable food) helped me finish tucking him in and I told him that I wouldn't bring him anything he wanted, but I would cuddle with him for a few minutes if he needed some extra comfort.
Within five minutes of me leaving the room Brad into the kitchen saying, "I don't know what's wrong, but Nathan's in his bed yelling your name over and over."
I walked back to where I had been just a few minutes before. Nathan wanted me to cuddle with him. Okay, I could do that. He sleeps in a loft bed, which is super easy for a six year old to climb into but a thirty-something year old? A bit of work. I got under his covers (not too gracefully I might add) and snuggled up.  He looked up to me with those droopy eyes and asked, "Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" I said I wouldn't stay that long, but I would cuddle him for a little while. (Did he not see the counters!)
I lay my hand on chest and felt his heart beating fast. It was like this for a while as we rested in the dark together. Finally, I could feel him slowing down. He opened his eyes to me, those eyes that had tried pulling me into bringing him whatever and sleeping in his bed, and he quietly said, "Can you get out now?"
Well, okay then!
As mentioned on facebook the other little bit of sunshine for me that day he was a sicko was when I was reading out loud from "Dr. Doolittle". The girls began talking excitedly about how they were going to an animal doctor too when they grew up. When it was Nathan's turn he told me he was going to be an animal doctor, a horse rider, and... a ghost writer. And, yes, he knew what it meant!