It's a Mommy thing. 

My ten-year-old son just didn't sound right. His voice was raspy, and he didn't seem to be as energetic as usual. But his friends were over, we had just eaten a huge brunch, complete with pancakes and turkey bacon, and the day was young. We were out at  a store when he he touched his throat and said, "My throat hurts just a little." So as soon as we returned home, I pulled out the cold medicine, told him to take a warm shower, and directed him to put his new "winter" PJ's on so I cold tuck him in for the night-- at 6 p.m. Though not feeling this "early-to-bed" idea so much, he didn't resist: another clue that a cold was sneaking its way into my progeny's system. We continued the medicine administration throughout the next day, he picked at his food, and I kept him home on Monday as a precaution.  After serving up breakfast and several cups of peppermint green tea with ginger, I began planning for the remainder of the day.  I pulled chicken out of the freezer, set a can of chicken broth on the counter, and put some Jasmine rice on the stove.  It was then that I began to reminisce about days past when our older sons had colds and I would make their favorite: homemade chicken soup.  My middle son liked it so much that sometimes he would over dramatize so that he could stay home at eat chicken soup.  He gave himself away one day when he asked, "Mom, if I stay home tomorrow, would you make me some chicken soup?"  After I explained to him that I could make that without his being "sick", he was okay.

As my youngest slurped on his soup, it became even more apparent to me that the soup is just one part of the entire recipe.  Not only is the preparation cathartic for me, but it serves the infirmed just as well as the actual meal because it's all done with TLC. It's now Tuesday and his nose is draining like mad, causing coughing and overall discomfort. To top it off, it's 50-something degrees outside, drizzling rain, and the house has just enough of a cold snap in the air to send us to our respective beds with comforters pulled up to our noses. So we're home again.  Now that breakfast is over and the dishes have been washed, our souls await another helping of chicken soup.