My son, Hunter, will do just about anything for a lollipop–sit still for a haircut, endure a shot, patiently wait in line at the bank. His face lights up when an adult offers him his choice of Dum-Dums. He loves to look for his favorite flavor, mango. No matter how long the day has been he sits back in the car contented sucking on his lollipop.
When he was three, he fell and cut his eye open. After his stitches, his pain magically disappeared when the nurse presented him with a lollipop. No matter how grumpy he is or how sad, the magical lollipop cures all.
Even, now, as he prepares to enter middle school, the lollipop is still his favorite snack. The other day I was sitting on the couch. I was a little sad, because I had just found out I hadn’t received interviews for a couple of jobs I had applied to. Coming out of the kitchen, he said, “Here, Mom, it looks like you could use a lollipop.”
As I sucked on one of his precious Dum-Dums that he had decided to share with me, I realized that maybe a lollipop can cure all.