Operation: NICE Rx

Most of you know I am a big fan of Melissa's new blog, Operation NICE. I think kindness is an idea who's time has come (again) and couldn't be happier to discover how many people are like me--trying to be good and kind, even when you really want to be anything but, and all around sick of the negativity that surround us. Then again, I'm also the attorney who stopped practicing to raise kids and write schmaltzy event wording, so maybe my perspective is skewed? Bah, who cares. I just want to say way to go, Melissa. I am so proud to count you as one of my online friends. And, hey! I had my own encounter with someone NICE today.

Mikey is sick. It's just a virus, but if I learned anything last year, a virus for a little boy with allergies like Mikey means high fevers, barking-seal coughs, and a whole lot of wheezing. I spent most of the night checking on him, rubbing his back, "sleeping" with him, taking his temperature, singing his favorite songs, and pretty much wondering what I could have done since school started to avoid all of this for him. The only thing greater than Catholic Guilty? Mother's Guilt.

I fell asleep around 7:oo am today, so the Mister took Mikey to the doctor's early morning sick hour. He prescribed for him one dose of steroids. The Mister took the Rx to the pharmacy after he dropped Mikey off at home. A couple of hours later, I packed up the boys and headed towards the pharmacy.

Our pharmacy has a drive-thru, and I couldn't have been happier about that as a miserable, feverish Mikey cried quietly in the back seat. As luck would have it, we were out of tissues and Motrin. So, even though I suspected they wouldn't, I asked the pharmacy-tech if there was any way I could buy Motrin and a box of tissues from her. She said no; I had to park and go into the store, which is not part of the pharmacy. {Un gran sigh.} Then she took a peek into the backseat and saw a very forlorn Mikey. She told me to hang on--she would do my shopping for me.

And she did. Five minutes later, she slid through the delivery drawer an Rx for steroids, 1 box of tissues and a large bottle of children's Motrin.

I slid back a note that read,

Thank you so much for thinking of my son.
It is greatly appreciated.
Best,
Jules

Maybe I'm just tired from a long night, but my sunglasses hid my misty eyes just fine as I pulled out of the drive-thru.

{Mikey must have borrowed my camera last week, because I found these tucked in between shots of the house and boys.}