BitterSweetLife

Aidan is not feeling very well. His eyes are redder than usual, which is saying something, since he has a deep-seated dislike for sleep of any kind. His nose is running at a slow, steady trickle--eyeballing it, with the expertise I've gained from pulling shots of espresso, I'd say about 1.8 milliliters every ten minutes. Nevertheless, he does not allow his weakened condition to interrupt his usual, self-appointed duties.

In my Leadership Issues class tomorrow, I have a quiz over a book that is not yet in my possession, so I pull on my coat and announce that I'm going to check the mail. (Leadership Issue # 37: You can't lead where you haven't read.) Aidan comes trotting up in his Jayhawk T-shirt (he's a loyalist), sweat pants and bare feet: "Goodbye, Mommy."

He knows that I rely on him to help me carry in the mail, which is frequently SO HEAVY that I cannot possibly lift it all myself, depending on Aidan to carry his share, while I carry us both up the stairs... Now he assumes, of course, that his services will still be needed. They are, enhanced by about twelve more layers of clothing. And Aidan's golden touch carries the day, because Overcoming the Dark Side of Leadership (Dark side 124: Being unequipped for your assignment) is waiting downstairs.

All this to say, Aidan is a tough cookie. Or a tough graham cracker, since you are what you eat.