Tuesday, May 4, 2010


I was so relieved yesterday about the bee that I came home in a great mood. Noah and I climbed in to bed. I turned to Noah, "I'm a paraplegic, can you help me get into my pj's?"
"A paraplegic or a quadriplegic?"
"Right, a quadriplegic. My brain is a little fried from the fall."
Noah smirks and helps me get undressed and pushes me over on my side of the bed. "Noah," I say, "I'm uncomfortable. Will you move me?" Noah pushes me.
"Not there, I want my head to be the other way."
By now, Noah is fed up, "If you're a quadriplegic, then this won't hurt." He proceeds to pinch me. I go crazy and settle back down. "See, you're not a quadriplegic."
"Yes, I am, I still have feeling there, just not everywhere else. That was just a spasm."

How I love him.

1 comment:

Christa said...

Umm...I've done the same thing to Camron. The quadriplegic thing is genius. I usually tell him it's good practice for when he'll have to dress our children.