Popsicle Sticks In the Mail

When my son was little and feeling under the weather, I’d pull out a popsicle to boost his spirits. You gotta love the simplicity of a child’s heart. Once when he was about 4 years old, he over heard me talking about my brother in-law’s father’s recent health problems. He piped up with “Mama, I wish we could send him a popsicle. That always makes me feel better. I wonder if we sent him popsicle sticks, he would feel at least a little better?”

Now that same little boy is a teenager, I have to try to remember that sweet, kind heart and try not to kill him when he acts like a teenager. I know that little boy who adored his Mama is still there. His cool factor just keeps it camouflaged! On a recent family ski vacation, he and my daughter called me at lunchtime to join them for lunch break. You see, Mama would rather stay behind to write a bit, read a bit, and explore the town a bit…more than risk life and limb skiing with her two bum knees. Anyway, I met them for a lunch that I wasn’t hungry for. What I really wanted was an apres’ ski lunch with my two favorite teenagers! A little voice in the back of my head was WHISPERING that they just wanted me to pay for said lunch…I didn’t care. I took my sunny lunch and smiled just like I did years ago when that cute Boy wanted to mail popsicle sticks to our family in law who was under the weather. Sometimes, you just need to look for the best!

About Debbie

I have been married for 20 years to a Yankee, have two great kids, a fun and funny Southern family, and a whole bunch of friends. I try to enjoy the journey!
This entry was posted in Family, Parenting Teens, Parenting Toddlers and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Popsicle Sticks In the Mail

  1. Katybeth says:

    Popsicles really do solve most problems.
    I know the feeling…When they want to talk, the world stops, your finger slides over the ring button on the phone, you will cross your legs to keep from having to go to the bathroom and pray nothing throws out a distraction. You agree to treat for lunch, watch God awful television, and drive, so you can listen to the backseat chatter. . .and you smile through your teeth and sometimes through you tears.
    Toasting your popsicle, with my popsicle for the fine young men we are raising.