Friday, April 18, 2008


What if Adinah throws another temper tantrum tonight, and I lose my temper again, and I hurt her with my words, or even my hands? What if, no matter how hard I try, all my patience boils away, and I see red, all because she doesn't want to brush her teeth or put away her Legos? What if I become Bad Father of the Week? And what if, then, it rains tapioca pudding?

Or, what if Adinah throws another hissy-fit tonight, and I ignore it, and she thinks, 'I've won,' and then she starts to think she is the Boss of me? Will we ever have peace in our house again? What if Anette and I become mere shuffling trolls, the pale, moon-tanned and warty slaves of our masters, our children? What if, Spock? What... If ?

What if neither of us does anything tonight, but Adinah stops liking me anyway? What if she doesn't love me forever, like the daughters do their papas in all the best books? What if she grows up and becomes a Republican? What if she discovers Black Sabbath, but only likes all the records they made after Ozzie left? Jeezus Fucking Christ, that would be a nightmare!


Snooker said...

Although I'm not a parent, I completely understand your suppositions. Surely it's normal to have these fears. But you know what? I bet that a person who is smart enough to HAVE these questions is going to be just fine... unless of course if she begins to listen to "Mob Rules" with a gleam in her eye... you should worry!

pat said...

Thank you, Snooker. I don't know if it's normal or not, but I'm glad you detected the humor I was attempting to mix in with the fear(s).

more cowbell said...

I was going to tell you it all works out fine, but then I got into a huge argument with my son because I wouldn't let him go to a rock concert festival 50 miles away at the age of 15. THe fact that he and his friend were getting attitudes and being snarky rather than showing me they could be responsible didn't help.

So yeah. He probably hates me now. >sigh<

they dont' tell you this shit when you sign up for it.

pat said...

Yeah, right? Nobody warns you until it's too late, and even then, all you get is the occasional stranger who looks at you and your three-year-old, shakes his head and says, 'Ah, that was such a nice age.' As if to imply that the coming years will make The Exorcist seem like understatement.
Sorry you had an argument, MC. Maybe he understands you're just being his mom. Because it sounds like he's being a real fifteen year old. And hey, at least he asked you if he could go to the festival!