I'm going to tell you a story. You will gasp. You might shriek. You'll wonder if you really did know me after all or my girls (for those of you who do actually know us). If you don't know us, you won't want to but then, really, I can't feel bad. I have enough trouble finding time to clean my bathrooms so I don't think you'd want me for a friend anyway.
One day, a wonderful, loving mother, was driving down the road with her two little, adorable, blond daughters.
She homeschooled. She was a Girl Scout leader. She was a Sunday School teacher. She wasn't young and inexperienced. She had a mini-van.
She sang to her children.
She read books to her children.
She did crafts with her children.
She believed in car seats, and bike helmets.
She did tend to lose the little one but that's a multiple layered story for another time. (and don't think she ever lets me forget it).
The children's clothes matched, always, even the shoes.
They took road trips, visited museums and historical sites.
They even had a family bed.
On that particular day, as they were driving down the road, having spent a wonderful afternoon at the beach, the fabulous mother asked her beautiful children what they wanted to be when they grew up. It was really a conversation starter because the fabulous mother loved talking to her children.
If you're throwing up right now, just stop it and pay attention to the story.
The lovely, but very tall, 6 year old said, "I'm going to be a singing cowboy and wear a cowboy hat and go around the world singing and telling people about Jesus."
The fabulous mother's heart melted. What an incredible parent she was to have raised such a loving, giving, child.
"Well, Emma" the mother said, "What about you?". Her expectations were not high since the little girl was only three. She was the cutest thing you have ever seen, tiny, tiny, with white blond hair and big brown eyes. "Do you know what you want to be? A fireman maybe, or a teacher, or maybe a doctor, or a missionary? or maybe, (big sigh) a mommy?"
Little Emma Grace, strapped in her car seat, looked her mommy straight in the eye (through the rear view mirror. Keep your eyes on the road at all times. This mommy was a good driver and has since been hit a by a car driven by a man not looking at the road!!) and said...,
"When I grow up," in a clear lilting, tiny voice, "I want to kill people."
|Maybe I should of been paying attention|
Yes, you read it right. It's the truth. I'm not making it up.
I do believe this is parenting at it's best. The fact that I, the mommy, didn't run off the road, didn't immediately hand the child over to someone else to raise, didn't lock her door at night when she went to bed. She just replied, kind of in a strangled, dear God did I hear right?, sort of voice, "That's nice sweetpea."
Conversation ended. The not so fabulous mommy, continued to drive home, where she put the beautiful little girls in a warm bath, found a bottle of Vodka, and fell on her bed face first.
The moral of this story is..., the mommy gave up "parenting" and from that point on just tried to make it through the day and hope that she didn't wake up one night with little Emma staring at her.
|Been this child's Girl Scout Leader - for - like - forever. That's her Silver Award.|
Susan, whose two best friends are her daughters Bonnie and Emma. They make her laugh, dance, growl, scream, giggle, run, become a shrew and generally thank the heavens that she got the opportunity to know them.
p.s. This is the same child who is a vegetarian. Figure that one out.