Max and I made a trip to the ER last night. He was complaining about a pain in his groin. So after a 5+ hour wait, three Mickey Mouse episodes, an ultra sound and x-ray; a young, tall and handsome resident solemnly declared, "the good news is he does not have a hernia, but he is really constipated."
My little Max was sent home with a prescription of Miralax and nutritional advice for his mommy. At midnight, I hailed a cab with one hand and carried Max, bundled in coat over dinosaur pajamas, with the other. In the taxi, Adele's "Someone Like You" was playing on the radio and Max sat quietly next to me, his little legs dangled over the seat as he looked out the window. And at that very moment, I never imagined loving someone so much.
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