Newlywed Flu

Hot, prickly skin
Hair matted to his scalp;
Sweaty back, florid face.
Heave-ho, “Jason, hasten…”
All over the rug.

“What did you cook for him?”
“Is he allergic to peanuts?”
Anxiety crescendos from my parents;
Their voices strained with concern
Over my week-old marriage,

“I told him I love him.”
Pleased at my fawning over him,
As they leave to celebrate the
morning 52 years before
when their marriage was birthed.

“It happened to him, too”
and mother winks at daddy.

Written in April, 2003 after giving Sam rice cakes and peanut butter.
He will never eat rice cakes again, I am sure!