Peas and Carrots

This morning, Ruby interrupted my stretching routine.

“Mom, can I have a jalapeno string cheese?”

I smiled. Her appetite is back. Yes!  Yes, you can.

Jonathon took her to the doctor yesterday and the diagnosis is most likely flu.  She’s got some cough medicine and a penicillin derivative for an infection. Even after one day, she’s feeling better.

I made a smoothie for breakfast.  Ruby grabbed her dad’s homemade chicken noodle soup from the fridge. Already, back to her unique sense of taste.

I peeked into the dining room. As I finished up preparing my coffee, I noticed a pile of peas outside the bowl.

Ruby peered into the bowl, fishing out each and every pea.

“I really hate peas,” she informed me.

I chuckled.  So do I. In fact, my hatred of peas has near-legendary status from childhood.

She kept ladling them out, freeing them from the constraints of the ceramic vessel.  I grabbed a bowl for her.


I started sipping my green, vitamin-packed drink.  She spooned up a lingering pea.

“I see you, peas,” she whispered into her bowl. None shall pass.

She’s baaack! Thanks be to God.


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