“You know I’m having trouble with my muscles, right?” Aimee began, surprised at her own composure. Her son nodded.
“Well,” she said, slowly, “Daddy’s sad because the doctor told me they’re not going to be able to help me get better.”
Nicholas sat there for a moment, thinking about what his mom had said and then responded in his 7-year-old way. “You know mom, when I grow up, I’m going to be a paleontologist and a St. Louis Cardinals baseball player and a zoologist and a person who studies plants,” he said, breathlessly.
“Well, I’m also going to be a doctor,” he said. “So if you’re still alive, I can help them find out how to make you better.”