Are you my mother?

I'm sure that most of us recall Eastman's (thanks Kelly) tale of the deserted baby bird that is denied the experience of imprinting with its own kind immediately after escaping his egg and seeks out another mother figure. Along his path, he manages to find a kitten, a hen, a dog, a cow, and finally a power shovel. Ultimately, it is the power shovel which delivers the bird back to its nest and mother.

The past few weeks I have felt much like a power shovel. I have carted one of my sickly geek friends back and forth between doctors, hospitals, pharmacies, and home. The poor soul is one of those cursed with a week immune system so although he spent ten days on four times the normal dose of antibiotics for an infection, the infection still returned this past week. This alone was stressful, but add two jobs to that and it equals migraines, dosing off in odd places, and a sad social life. (I must add that I was not the only power shovel though, it really took two of us.)

Yesterday I flew the coop a little at my sick geek friend, for which I inevitably feel guilty. He merely asked me when his next doctor's appointment is and I slipped into a rage, demanding him to take more self-responsibility. I refused to make his medical decisions any longer and even refused to take him to, "Horton Hears a Who."

You may think me a monster for sharing this tale but I must say that I couldn't take much more of the mothering instinct coming out, I believe it was fundamentally changing me. Evidence of this was when my 19 year old geek and I walked into the doctor's office and the nurse immediately asked, "Are you his mother?"

I vehemently denied the accusation immediately! I began to think, how old do I look that someone would take me for my geek's mother?! Have I crossed some maternal instinct line that gives off motherly hormones or something that might single me out to others? And most importantly, how the hell do I get back over the line?

Well, it took me a little time, but I finally had to stop being the kitten, the hen, the dog and the cow, and dump my geek back into the nest. That's right, I'm a power shovel, baby!