Mommies are magic

1000315_10151713347102135_1657709235_nA few weeks ago, my son got sick. It was the kind of sick where he was feeble and run-down and just wanted his momma. I have to admit, as much as I hate seeing my child like that, I absolutely adore getting the chance to be the person who makes him feel comforted. With a little snuggling and a cool washcloth, I can make all that yuckiness go away (at least, in his mind).

At some point during the cuddling, he asked for his Batman Lego toy. I searched the entire house for that few-inches-tall caped crusader only to come up empty-handed. I knew for a fact that he had been holding the toy when he first vomited all over our couch. I began to worry that I had thrown out the Lego in the chaos of paper towels, Lysol and laundry.

“Oh, Mommy, I just really need to see my Batman Lego toy,” he said in a weak little voice, his puppy dog eyes begging me to look just one more time.

That’s when I had the idea.

His fifth birthday is just around the corner (how?!?!?), and we had gotten him a pretty cool Lego set with yet another Batman (because you can never have enough, right?).

I couldn’t help it. Here was my sad little sick boy whose current favorite toy I had probably chucked. I did what probably most any parent would do: I ripped open the birthday present, tore through the pieces and found the Batman.

But this Batman was blue. The other one was black. What’s a mother to do?

“Hey, buddy! Guess what? I couldn’t find your old Batman, but I was able to get you something even cooler! Look!”

My son was thrilled. He explored the pieced-together hero, marveling at his mask and cape.

“Where did you get this?” he asked.

Thus the flaw in my plan. I forgot that my son is about to turn 5 and is starting to develop his sense of logic. He knew I didn’t go to the store. He knew Amazon shipping takes two days at best. What’s a mother to do?

“I made it out of magic,” I lied.

Man, did he ever eat that one up.

“Wow! Really, mommy? Are you really magical?”

I looked at his sweet little face and thought about it.

Yes, actually, I am kind of magical. I heal boo-boos with a kiss. I juggle two children over a hot stove and still get dinner on the table without anyone getting hurt. I can find about 90 percent of the misplaced toys/stuffed animals/pieces of lint to which my children have grown attached, otherwise known as making items appear out of thin air. I can also make things disappear, a phenomenon that will happen to most of my kids’ Halloween candy this weekend.

I held my son close to me and whispered, “Yes, buddy, I am magical.”

He smiled a little smile and said, “Then can you make me some Ninja Turtle Legos, too?”

OK, I’m not THAT magical.

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