The little things

Last night during dinner, the boys and I got on the topic of shots; earlier in the day, I received a notification from the preschool that Sam was behind on vaccines (he isn't, something was not properly recorded). As we discussed their flu shots, Ben commented that he had an IV when he had his tonsils out and he DID. NOT. LIKE. IT. That was abundantly clear, seeing he pulled the needle of of his hand. Anyway, Sam looked at Ben and said, "but it was okay, Benny-man," and then, with a little smile, looked at me and said, "Because Mommy brought us 10 juice boxes." I couldn't believe he remembered. With a lump in my throat, I nodded my head "yes." It was true, I had a mini-cooler full of juice boxes that I brought with us to the hospital because I knew the boys would need to drink before they could be discharged. I just didn't think either of them would remember their time in the recovery room, much less the fact that Mommy had made them feel better by bringing juice boxes. It is the little things that matter so much.