Domestic Unrest


I went grocery shopping today, just me and Seth. Josh had charge of Samantha and Simon. They saw me leave, and it wasn’t pretty. I put my fingers in my ears and ran for the car. Here is Josh’s description of the scene I left behind.

Simon dissolved into three year old tears, thwarted from his escape into the great outside. Samantha, however, was both irate and hurt that I had dared leave without her. She’s my shopping buddy, usually. I might as well have stabbed her in the heart, leaving her behind. She ran off to the bedroom, and slammed the door.

Simon, sensing her distress, abandoned his own fit. He can’t resist a closed door. He followed her into the bedroom, climbed up onto her bed, and gently stroked her cheek. “I’m sorry, Mo-Anne.” (He named her Mo-Anne, not me.)

Samantha ignored him, in a full snit. Simon tried again, gently touching her cheek. “I’m sorry, Mo-Anne.”

Samantha harrumphed, and turned her back. Simon tried again, firmly stroking, “I’m SORRY, Mo-Anne!”

Samantha failed to respond. Simon drew back his arm, and walloped her on the head, “I SAID, I’m SORRY, Mo-Anne! Say ‘That’s OKAY!'”

Mo-Anne had a great deal to say at that point, but I’m afraid none of it involved the word “okay.” Daddy had a great deal to say on the topic of appropriate responses, for both of them.

I’m actually sorry that I missed it all.

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