This isn't actually Sausage by the way. My kid has a curly golden mane and a face that makes me weep with joy.

For the last couple of days, I’ve been suffering from some evil flu type thing which has left me feeling very rough and very sorry for myself. The sore throat and swollen glands wouldn’t have been so bad had they not been coupled with vomiting and an ache that’s permeating through every single body part. Even the roots of my hair are hurting (What’s that? The world’s smallest violin…?!).

Yesterday, the shopping was due to arrive at around 10.30am. I’d already thrown up a couple of times by this point, so when the shopping got here I had to try and compose myself for long enough to get it out of the crates and into the hallway.* Well, aside from scaring the bejesus out of the delivery man, I managed to get it all in without spraying him with vom. However, my composure didn’t last for long, and mid put-away I had to run from the kitchen to shout into the large white telephone once again. I knew Sausage would be okay, the bathroom is actually next to the kitchen in our house, and between retches I could hear her pottering about, with what I assumed were her toys.

When I came back after a few minutes, I was confronted by the sight of my almost-three-year-old, standing in the kitchen, having put away half of my shopping! She’d put all of the cans and jars away in the right cupboards and had even attempted to put a frozen item away, albeit unsuccessfully as our freezer drawers are a bit awkward to get back in.

What a sweetheart. I almost cried with gratitude and pride, for her to show kindness and initiative like blew me away.

It gets better though. Later on in the day, I was sitting on the sofa with my laptop, attempting to catch up with some work when Sausage came and sat next to me. She pretended to take my temperature, sticking her play thermometer into my ear, making the beep herself, and saying “Hmm, 37.5”, and proceeded to feed me grapes! I realise this might be starting to sound like a post about child labour, but I’m just so proud that my daughter has such a wonderful caring nature. She’s such an amazing human being and though as parents, we probably all try to never take our kids for granted, it’s little moments like that which highlight just how lucky we are.

I’m feeling a lot better today and have promised to take Sausage shopping for a dress for a christening that we’re attending on Sunday, and I’m going to make a point of pampering my little pickle. It’s nice to have her looking after me, but I don’t want her to do it too often, the whole role reversal thing doesn’t sit too well if it becomes a regular thing. But it was very nice to have my own mini nursemaid for a day!

Now, I wonder if she’s too young to learn how to do the washing-up…?

 

*Just as a side note, you should have seen the look that the Sainsbury’s delivery man gave me when I answered the door with a stained t-shirt and combats on, my hair looking like somethings was nesting in it and my red-rimmed eyes hanging out of my head. Poor bloke. I probably should have brushed my teeth after vomiting. He may need some sort of compassionate leave from his job for a while after the trauma of seeing me.