Like most siblings, our children fell out from time to time. Simply natural as they ‘found themselves’. Disagreements were rare because underneath, they were all best of friends. They still are.
But when they didn’t feel too well, each would be wrapped in ‘the sick blanket’, a very distinctive smoky blue ribbed blanket, with the singlular purpose of comforting poorly children and making them better. It was much revered.
Recently each called to speak to their mother.
“Madre’s not well I’m afraid.” I informed them.
“The sick blanket!”
“The sick blanket? Poor Madre... she must be really ill!”