There's something about feeling ill that makes me want to go home. I mean, not that I don't visit otherwise. I'm already the only child that visits the parents on a regular basis. Sure, sure, use distance as an excuse. And Tim, living there doesn't count.
Today the Husband was off to a class during the day and out for a Man-Date in the evening. So, I decided I wanted to see my mum and dad.
Mum made homemade chicken noodle soup. I should have taken a picture just to show Jenny. After a bowl of piping hot soup followed by the best coffee in the world (you really should start a coffee/dessert shop mum) we retreated to the living room. There I got a pillow and a blanket and my own personal heater. She went and found a beautiful candle that mimics the northern lights - you'd have to see it to understand. The lights were dimmed, music was provided by the little brother and we watched it change colors and talked. Even my dog got spoiled with meat and bones from the chicken soup.
I should be back on my feet by tomorrow.
I left the Farm with a car full of pork, left over chicken soup, homemade buns, tomato soup, and a couple of items from Costco that she picked up for me just because they were so cheap she couldn't leave them there.
I taught my Dad that a real hug means putting his arms all the way around someone. He thought a tap on the shoulders should count. I won.
And just now, Dad called to make sure I made it home okay.