Sorry, Mom

From www.loving
From http://www.loving

It has recently come to my attention that a number of the most annoying things my kids do are exactly the same things I did to drive my mom crazy as a child. It would be reasonable to assume that such self-reflection would make me more patient and forgiving, but sadly this is not the case. It does prompt me to beg for my mother’s forgiveness, however. Better late than never.

Dear Mom,

I’m so sorry that I:

  • wandered off with the good kitchen shears/scotch tape/screwdriver/all the pens that work and then lost track of them.
  • dropped my backpack, coat, lunch box, boots, bags, and everything I owned in the doorway, leaving it for everyone to trip over.
  • used up all of the toilet paper and then proceeded to use up all of the Kleenex instead of hunting for a new roll.
  • interrupted you for the 23rd time in a row.
  • relocated my pile of stuff to the stairs when forced to remove it from the doorway.
  • couldn’t find my drugstore sneakers/homework/lunch/field trip slip and made everyone late, even though I said I was ready to go, and I’d spent the previous 30 minutes goofing around.
  • yelled “Mom!” from the top of the stairs repeatedly until you dropped everything to come to me.
  • left my dirty dishes everywhere but the dishwasher.
  • begged to stay up late and then was miserable and crabby for the next 2 days.
  • asked for help with homework and then said, “that’s not what we’re supposed to do.”
  • insisted on doing something myself and then lost it/spilled it/broke it/got hurt.
  • repeatedly said I did not need to use the restroom and then–five minutes down the road–suddenly had an emergency.
  • repeatedly rolled my eyes and said, “you don’t understand” in that egregious tween tone.

I’m well aware that these are not the worst of my transgressions, but simply reflect the level at which my kids are now competing. Here’s hoping that some of your patience and humor will eventually rub off so I manage to weather the tween years and beyond.

By the way, now I know what you mean by “what goes around comes around.”

Feel free to say, “I told you so.”

Your loving daughter.


Published by

Beret Olsen

Writer, photographer, teacher, and part-time insomniac.

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