If you've been here a while, you'd know that I found out I had breast cancer twelve years, five months and ten days ago. (yes, keeping count) If you're pretty up-to-date on this part of our cyberworld you'd also know that I finally told the boys I was once diagnosed. I hesitated for a while but felt like a load had come off as soon as I came right out and said it.
Mak, first-born twin, wanted to know the details. Tato, born three minutes later, listened intently then decided "we would not talk about it ever again". I totally respect and get it. The subject hasn't ever really come up again. I'm armed and ready with answers just in case.
Yesterday we were at a birthday party. All the other little girls hounded the glitter tattoo table to get their arms all shimmery with fairy and princess designs. The boys were next and many went for the lightning bolts and dragons. Mak and Tato took their turns but they rushed off to the bouncy castle before I got a chance to see their temporary tats.
When the boys finally emerged from every party's black hole - the bouncy house, I saw a bright pink tat on Tato's arm.
Tato: Look! I got a breast cancer ribbon. It's for you, Mama.