Opening Cans of Soup

Tamika arrived at 1, skipping across the road toting two grocery bags of food. She wore a chocolate shirt and a white, blue & brown flowing headband that trailed down her back and matched her belt.
She dropped the bags when she got inside and stood on her toes to give me a kiss, feeling my forehead.
She began setting up, and I found another can of stew to match the beef she had brought for me.
She unpacked bread, cheese, and ham for grilled cheese, and then produced from the other bag one by one.
“Mmm, tissues. A whole box for you, a special kind that is really soft AND disinfects… and…” she pulled out 6 little packets, “small ones to put in your pockets… Strawberry cough drops, Dayquil & Nyquil gel-caps, not the drinking kind, Vapor Rub to put on your nose, and…” she smiled, “Lip balm! Medicated lip balm, to make you lips feel… mmm… nice and soft…” she kissed me.
“Thanks.” I said softly, “Thanks. I like being taken care of.”
“Good.” She grinned, “I like taking care of you.”
She spun around. “Soup.”
She tugged at the pull tab and popped it off with flair.
However, the “flair” shot bits of stew everywhere.
“I’m sorry!” she groaned, rushing to the sink and grabbing a sponge.
“Don’t worry. It’s alright.” I said, getting some napkins and wiping it up.
We finished cleaning, and she went to the sink to pull off the other tab.
I pulled out one of the fresh, new Kleenexes, and started up stairs to get my bag.

She yelped.
The water flashed on, she shuddered holding her finger under it.
Her pinkey spurted blood, she hunched over the sink with her teeth grit and her arms shaking.
The lid of the second can of beef stew had swung around and sliced her pinkey deep. She was crying, but making very little noise.
I ran back, covering the finger with the clean Kleenex and put pressure on it. I turned on the cold water, and let it run, and put a little salt on the cut. She gripped me tight, her eyes bubbling tears. I washed it in cold water, and sat her down with her arm raised.
I didn’t have any ice, so I had her hold a pint of ice cream against it.
It took a while for the bleeding to stop, the cut was so deep. But she took it well despite the pain. I ran upstairs and got some bandages once we got the blood to clot, and I patched her up.
“I’m sorry,” she said through tears “I came to take care of you, not the other way around…”
“Don’t worry about it.” I smiled, “I like taking care of you too.

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