My mother spent the next six hours after I got home absolutely coddling me, and I couldn’t help but love it just a little bit.
I took a shower, throwing on my favorite t-shirt and old sweats. My dizziness had almost completely subsided, and replaced by a pretty severe, thumping headache. I gently pulled a wide toothed comb through my wet hair— carefully avoiding the stitches on my scalp— before I slowly took the stairs down to the living room.
My mother had food waiting for me— homemade chicken and rice soup with a grilled cheese sandwich. I was so hungry that I was salivating— which was rare for me. She fussed over me until I curled up on the sofa, and she brought me my food on a tray.
I grimaced. “Mom, this really isn’t necessary. I can eat at the table.”
My mother leaned down and
