'Rice,' I answer honestly. She laughs and says, 'You need to eat your veg. You have to look after yourself.' I tell her I had a cherry coke; she's unimpressed. I promise I will try but I tell myself that caring for someone is tiring, so time consuming and thankless, every mother knows that.
The next morning at 6:15AM I make my son a fruit platter - a finally ripe kiwi, thinly sliced; sable grapes cut into halves; a pink lady apple, quartered; a multivitamin nestled in the mix.
And then, before I call his name, I make another.
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