On Saturday morning I was sick. Really sick. I was in the bathroom several times vomitting. Mac followed me in each time only to be ushered out by Aaron who kept saying "Come on out, baby, Mama's sick."
Finally I went upstairs to lie down. A few minutes later Mac was standing there by the bed.
The conversation went like this:
Mac: Mama, sick?
Me: Yes, baby, Mama's sick.
Mac: (with sincere concern, a questioning look and a finger pointed at each item) Eyeball? Foot?
Me: (Laughing hysterically while tyring not to vomit) No, baby, Mama's tummy hurts.
Mac: oh, Mama sick. (and then he turned and exited with a smile.)
My life is so rich!
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