Costumes

Dear Jack,

You have another cold. You poor thing. You get all plugged up and you get so upset that you can’t breathe that your bottom lip trembles and tears roll down your cheeks. I squirt salt-water into your nose. I rub Vicks on your chest. I make you suck on a super-strength Halls while you play bejewelled on my iphone at 10:30pm.

Today I remembered how much you love(d) costumes.

You had a ninja costume and you would put the whole thing on and sneak up on me. And you’d stand there and I’d pretend to be worried and wonder where you were and you would pull off the mask and smile at me a knowing smile. And I’d say, ‘oh thank goodness, it’s you!’.  You had a bumblebee mask and you’d shrink down into a ball and push a button and then transform into a boy. and I’d pretend to be worried, wondering where you were and you would push the button again and shrink down into a car. And you’d nod at me.

 

You don’t do that anymore….

I wish you did. You always did it while I cooked supper…

 

xo

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