The other day I was experiencing the bewitching hour of 4:00-5:00 when all things crazy and frustrating occur...amidst my trying to get dinner on the table and ensure homework and piano was completed and keep a certain 1-year-old from singlehandedly destroying the sphere we lovingly call home.
I was loading the dishwasher in a frenzy at just such a time when Addie came through the garage door into the kitchen, looking shamefaced and scared. Carson was close behind her.
me: What's wrong, Ads?
Addie: [no answer]
Carson: Addie accidentally ran through some flowers in the front yard and trampled them because she was trying to catch the Frisbee I threw. The flowers are destroyed, mom.
me: [internal battle rages. how to respond...how to respond...] Oh. Rats. Oh well. The flowers are getting ready for fall anyway. Thanks for telling me and being honest. Why don't you go keep playing outside, and just be careful of the other flowers, kay?
[kids head outside as I hear Carson say comfortingly to Addie] See? I told you she wouldn't get mad as long as we told her the truth!
I think I can safely say there has never, in the history of mankind, been a person more grateful to have squelched an angry knee-jerk reaction than I was at that moment.
Hooray for parenting moments gone painfully right.
1 comment:
I really like that story.
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