Last night, my family went to the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life. Mom said it was to celebrate ME, because I'm a survivor.
My big sister carried me on her back for a little while. As usual, they didn't have any t-shirts my size. I guess they think kids don't get cancer. (Mom's note: The benediction, of course, ended with "in Jesus's name". Because apparently only Christians get cancer.)
The first lap in the relay was just for cancer survivors. Mom walked with me, though. Dad said it was okay, because Mom survived my cancer, too.
As we walked around the track, people stood and clapped for all of us wearing the "Survivor" shirts. The track has this cool red dirt and little rocks on it, so I kept trying to stop to play with it. Mom wouldn't let me stop. Meanie. But she promised I could play with the dirt at the end.
Eventually, Mom gave up and just carried me. As people clapped for me, I waved. I think Mom didn't understand what was going on, because she was crying a lot of the time. See, if she'd just stopped and played in that cool red dirt, I just know she would have felt better.
Don't worry, Mom. I beat cancer's butt when I was just a baby, and if I need to, I'll do it again!