I was so smug. I produced a male heir, a solitary namesake for two families.
He was perfect with his golden hazel eyes, corn silk hair, and gossamer skin.
Then his body betrayed him.
A burn vandalized his angelic face. An angry red scar spread from his sweet strawberry lips to his peach fuzz ear. Still, he was perfect, he was beautiful.
I grieved for my only son of an only son, a mother’s treasure, yet I wrapped my blanket of conceit around me even tighter.
Then his mind betrayed him.
He is still perfect, still beautiful, still my cherished son, but this scion’s legacy may end with him.
Karma. Is. A. Bitch.
I gave Alison this prompt: Apparently, there is nothing that cannot happen today. – Mark Twain
*From The Vault of If Mom Says OK; reworked and edited for Scriptic. Originally posted June, 2010.