Stinky the Skunk

My sweet boy...
It is 10:10 p.m. and I am watching the news.
Jack tends to come down some evenings right about this time.
He complains of not being tired.
He complains of not being able to sleep.
He cries because he's worried about our dog Bailey dying. (He's a 14 1/2 year old golden retriever. His worries are warranted.)

Tonight, he cries again. Tears are streaming down my sweet boy's face as he snuggles up next to me and releases the day's sadness.

Me: What is wrong, honey?

Jack: Don't laugh.

Me: Of course I won't laugh. What is wrong?

Jack: Today in class, Mrs. McAloon read us a story about Stinky the skunk. He was a little skunk who was crossing the road and his mama didn't want him to get hurt, so she went out into the road and saved him but she got runned over. She died.

At this point, he began sobbing.

It's official.
He is me.

I remember sobbing while reading "Blubber" by Judy Blume.
Hell, I still cry at that Folgers commercial that comes out every Christmas.
You know the one....the little girl exclaims, "Peter!" and runs to hug him.


I spend the next few minutes holding my sweet, sensitive boy who carries the world on his shoulders.

Me: Jack, did you tell your teacher about how you were feeling today?

Jack: No. I told Hunter and he said, "You mean you are still thinking about that story?"

Obviously, his friends don't understand the depth of his soul.
I can't really expect them to.
They are nine.

Me: Talk to me. Why does this make you so sad, honey?

Jack: Because it could be you doing that for me. And then you would die.

Then the tears start streaming from my eyes.
We cry together for a few minutes.
He then asks me to "retell" Stinky's story so that the mama lives.
I do.
He is happy.
He stops crying.
I stop crying.
He goes to bed.

And I write.
Because I can't sleep.
Because I can't believe how amazing my sweet boy is.
And how Stinky the Skunk from Sideways Stories from Wayside School
was able to elicit these kinds of emotions from a nine year old and a 41 year old.

God help my compassionate, sensitive boy.