Little Lenny came to my hubby’s rescue.
Driving my boys home, my eldest, Oliver, began to get upset.
Aged 8, Oliver has epilepsy and severe learning difficulties.
He’d often get fussy when he was fed up or feeling poorly.
Still, we weren’t far from home, and I was just about to reassure him of that…
Only, I didn’t need to.
‘It’s all right, mate, we’re almost home!’ my youngest, Lenny-George, 3, piped up, reaching out to take his big brother’s hand. ‘I don’t know where he gets that from,’
I told my hubby Mark, 34, later.
Most of the time, Lenny was like any other kid his age, tearing around the place pretending to be Superman. But he had this caring side.
We’d never told him that Oliver was different from other people, or that he needed support. But Lenny just sensed it, and was often the first to comfort his brother whenever he needed it.
‘Maybe he gets it from you,’
Mark said.
As well as caring for Oliver, I liked to keep a close eye on Mark, who has type 1 diabetes.
Mark needs to give himself four insulin injections a day to keep his blood-glucose level stable. I can tell when he’s getting low, as he goes dazed and wobbly, almost as if he’s drunk.
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