Getting It Wrong

 

Two sweet faces

Occasionally, Moms make mistakes.

I just want to get that out there.

They do.

Not often.

But occasionally.

Moms are busy. Usually keeping at least three balls in the air at any given moment.

It's totally understandable . . .

My younger brother, Blair was playing in the front room.

Quietly.

Because he was always quiet.

Our baby sister, Anita, was playing nearby.

Less quietly.

Because she . . . never mind.

She had disdained her basket full of colourful toys and was climbing up on the coffee table and sliding off.

This had been entertaining her for several minutes.

Then, she mis-calculated. Slid off a little too quickly and bumped something important.

Tears ensued. Bringing Mom in a hurry from the kitchen.

She picked her sobbing daughter up from the floor where she lay in a crumpled, miserable heap.

“Blair! What did you do?!”

Blair looked up from the book he was reading, his mouth a perfect 'O' of confusion. “Ummm . . .”

He, too was picked up. 

And summarily parked on the piano bench.

The 'you've-done-something-terrible' spot.

Blair blinked and frowned thoughtfully. Had he done something? He didn't think so.

He had been quietly reading.

Anita had been playing a few feet away on the coffee table.

“But Mom . . .!”

“Don't you 'but mom' me! You stay there and think about what you did!”

Mom marched back out to the kitchen.

Leaving a very confused little boy sitting on the piano bench in the front room.

Anita, tears forgotten, was back crawling onto the coffee table.

Yep. Moms make mistakes.

Fortunately for the future of the world as we know it, it doesn't happen often.