I want my mommy

Well, not mine, per se. Anyone’s would do.

I’ve been ill, on and off, since about August. A cold that started to mend then covid hit that started to mend then a sinus infection that started to mend and then a cold again… you get the gist.

At my weakest, most pathetic moment – when I was sat at my desk under a mountain of snotty tissue and disgarded half-drunk mugs of lemon and honey – I sat there and thought to myself how deeply I craved someone’s mum to come and tuck me into bed with a big bowl of chicken noodle soup with a promise to take care of things for me.

I’m less than a month off 40, moved out at ~17 and having been looking after myself since long before then so it’s not like I’m conditioned to being looked after; it’s weird to me that that’s what my brain thought of at that particular moment.

Maybe I just really wanted some chicken noodle soup and my mother has nothing to do with it.