I took Nat to the supermarket as part of our joint therapy. Her to learn how to find items by following a checklist. Me to learn how to put back items she brings me randomly from God knows where.
Today, however, Nat had a touch of a cold, and wasn't feeling on top of her game. In the baking goods aisle, she looked up at me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen.
“I'm really cold,” she said to me quietly, and my heart tumbled.
And there I was, in the middle of the aisle, trying to take off my sweater without pulling my undershirt too high and scaring everyone with my hairy gut. I pulled it over my head, and said “put this on, then.”
I handed her my sweater, and her eyes were wide as pie plates. I can't explain the pure adulation and joy on her face, that I would take my clothing off and give it to her to keep her warm.
It was like I had given Dobby a sock.
She put on that sweater, and didn't stop smiling for the rest of the day. She didn't once complain about being tired or sick. She wore that sweater all the way to bath time.
For my part, I tried to look not too pleased with myself, and refrained from patting myself on the back because, if I did, I would reveal the holes in my shirt.
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