I Wanted to Do What’s Best for Him.
Dylan has insisted on spending mornings alone this week – getting up, making breakfast & lunch, getting to the bus on time. I’m okay sleeping in, but I do worry that he’ll forget to take his pills.
Today, his pill bottle hadn’t moved (since yesterday) and I had a sneaking suspicion that he’d gone off without them. Since it was a new bottle, I counted them – knowing how many should be missing – and sure enough, he hadn’t taken his pills.
Then I found his lunchbox crammed sideways behind the fruit bowl. It was empty. But he had obviously put said lunchbox there – it wasn’t laying out, half-packed, like usual. So I didn’t know if he had lunch or not.
Should I take him the pills? Should I feed him? Or should I do what all the books say to do – let him live with the consequences of his actions – and starve, and be unable to concentrate all day?
I never know what’s right. He’s staying at school until 5 p.m. tonight for extra-long play rehearsal. He could buy lunch – but I know he won’t. And to go without the pills – bare-minimally helpful though they may be … it just pained me to think of it.
Will he be offended if I do for him what he wanted to do for himself? Will he yell at me for interfering in his life?
I wanted to do what’s best for him. Isn’t food best for him? And his pills? My mother’s instinct won. I made him a quick sandwich and, after dropping off Shane at school, I took his sandwich and pills to the middle school.
Dylan sauntered into the office a few minutes later, and I handed him his pills.
“Oh, thank you!” he said, smiling. I handed him a bottle of water. “Thanks,” he said again. He didn’t appear to be offended with my interference. “I knew I’d forgotten them and I didn’t think there was anything I could do about it.”
He took the pills.
“Do you want a sandwich?” I asked him, taking out the peanut butter sandwich from my other pocket.
“Thank you!” he said.
“I noticed your lunchbox was at home,” I said.
“I took a different lunchbox today,” he told me, “but I forgot to make my sandwich.” He smiled again. “You’re like telepathic or something!”
“Maybe I could get up with you in the morning,” I said. “Just for moral support.”
“Yeah,” Dylan said, pumping his fist, “like, Go! Study!”
We both laughed. His smile was huge as he walked away, backwards, bowing to me like a Chinese servant. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said.
I guess I did the right thing.
Even if it was the wrong thing, Dylan’s smile just totally made my day.