![]() |
| 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.
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 was summarily parked
in the 'you've done something terrible' spot.
The piano bench.
Huh. You know I just figured something
out.
Whenever we did something horrible, we
were set on the piano bench to think about our sins.
Maybe that's why none of us liked
playing the piano.
Just a thought.
Back to my story . . .
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.
