Monday, June 15, 2009


He was just digging around under his bed. Or, as I like to call it, the abyss. I don't dare look under there. I'm not sure if you brave mothers look under your children's beds, but with Jake it's just best that I pretend it's not there.

You never really know what you'll find-everything from stray lego pieces to crumpled math papers, old stuffies and dust bunny monsters so large they could swallow you whole. I've been bugging him to tidy up for months, but most of the time there are piles of books and clothes, and stray items everywhere. It's a feat just to find enough space to vacuum!

After 5 minutes of digging, Jake was suddenly beside me, his breath wheezing like he'd just run around the block.

"Mom, I'm all itchy, and it's hard to breathe, and I feel like I have something stuck in my throat," Jake began coughing. Really coughing. As in, the kind of cough when asthma is closing up his lungs.

"Where's your inhaler?" he shook his head. Oh no, you have to be joking. It's 9:30 at night, and almost everything is closed, and I really don't want to go to the ER. Please tell me you have an inhaler. I almost held my breath when I asked,

"Don't you have one?"

He shook his head again, this time sheepishly casting his eyes to the floor.

"You mean it ran out and you didn't tell me?" Wait up there, Mom. No time for lectures. Find an inhaler and FIND. IT. NOW. "Get in the car."

A few minutes later we sat at the pharmacy, newly purchased inhaler in hand, and Jake breathed in the medicine he needed so badly.

"So I guess maybe you'll listen to me now about keeping your room cleaner, huh? I mean I kept telling you to keep it tidy because the dust would aggravate your asthma and you didn't believe me so maybe you will now because we don't want this to happen again and..."

"I didn't think it would really happen," Jake smiled sheepishly. "but you know, if I clean it now I might have another asthma attack."

I knew where this was going. How I was going to spend my Sunday. I would spend my day cleaning out the dust bowl called his room, so that he could breathe easier in there.

Somehow I think that was the plan all along.

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