“Mom, Holden spit in the corn.”

My first grader is losing a tooth almost every week. He’s gone from perfect little white baby teeth to a silly gap-toothed smile. It’s likely that he will be missing all four top teeth and a couple on the bottom by the end of the school year. I feel like once those big teeth come in it’s the end of being a “little kid” and he is my baby.

I’m trying so hard to avoid germs because my white count was so low. Due to the diabetes I feel like I catch every little bug that goes around and combined with the chemo it’s a perfect storm for me to pick up some really nasty funk.

I open doors with my elbows and feet. I flush all public toilets with my left foot (shoe on). I practically bathe in hand sanitizer when I get back in the car every day after going into my kids school. I have a special pen in my office for other people to touch that I don’t use.

I’m also trying to eat extra healthy. So I was proud of my husband and I for throwing together a great dinner tonight without planning. Roasted chicken (Kroger rotisserie), broccolini, corn and fruit salad. The corn sounded especially good. I even put it in a bowl on the table instead of serving it from the stove.  My grandmother would be proud. So I was disappointed when I heard my daughter exclaim, “Mom, Holden just spit in the corn!” 

“What do you mean he spit in the corn?” 

“He was just talking and all this spit came out and flew everywhere and into the corn. Uck, he’s gross.”

“Holden, did you spit in the corn?”, I asked calmly.

“I was just talking and Avery did …..and I did…..and I can’t help it because my mouth is funny without teeth and I didn’t mean to but the spit just came out.” His voice pitched higher and higher and he spoke faster and faster as he talked.

I have to admit that I zone out a little when the kids start blaming each other for their own behavior. I didn’t even know what he said but I was focused on the spit corn.

“Did the spit go into the corn? Because I know it was an accident but if it did Mommy can’t eat it because she can’t share germs or get sick during chemo.”

“Yes.” The lower lip came out.

“Why was the corn in front of you? I put it over there.”

“I just wanted some.”

“Well, you will get extra because I’m not eating any.”

“I’m not eating any,” said my husband. “Me either,” chimed in my daughter.

“Well, Holden. It looks like you get all the corn tonight.”


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