So I fell down the stairs yesterday morning. Yep. Fell right down the stairs. Here’s the worst part – I was carrying my 17 month old son. Luckily, I felt myself fall and immediately put him in a football hold and protected him as I scraped up my arm, bruised my knee and landed on my head. When I finally hit the floor, he was laughing at the amazing roller coaster ride he just went on, and I was crying from the pain of falling down a flight of stairs.
However, that isn’t what I really wanted to share with you. What I wanted to share is what happened two seconds later. So there I was, trying to hold back the tears from my pain as I stand my son up and look at my damaged body when my 4-year-old daughter looks up from the couch and says, “You ok?”
I reply in a shaky voice, “Uhmmm…yeah…I think I’ll be ok.”
To which she follows up with, “Are my eggs ready yet?”
Her mother is sitting on the floor with a bloody elbow and tears in her eyes and my daughter has one thought and one thought only on her brain – eggs. It was at that moment that I realized I was truly a mother. It’s always their boo-boos that matter. When it is ours, eggs will always take precedence. Always. Damn eggs.