Most every Friday night at our house is pizza night. Sometimes we make it but usually we order out. On this particular Friday, Will headed out the not so local Mazzio’s to pick up our pies. I stayed home with the kiddos. Sister quietly researched how to fill her currently empty aquarium. Brother snagged my Kindle and proceeded to bury himself in the world of Minecraft. Z hung out with me playing stickers and begging “ickle me!” Dora joined us but declined to be “ickled.” Not wanting anyone left out of the game, Z refused her denial and she promptly pinched his neck to show her resolve. Crying ensued, lots of crying. Realizing that she had perhaps overstepped, Dora apologized; a sweet side hug apology ending in “I’ll never do it, ever again.” The boy’s shirt was actually damp with the water/salt mixture that comes from being supremely hurt and yet, he immediately returned an almost cheery, “dat’s otay.” I smiled, sighing just a bit at the sweetness.
And all was well in the Land of Simple.
Except it wasn’t because then Dora had the nerve to offer Z a sticker and he screamed, “NO!” and began to rage as well as one can when holding two plastic dolphins until he realized that the dolphins were holding him back whereupon he flung them with purpose and great intensity such that the weaker of the two developed a nasty crack down its glittered side. It was a travesty to be sure but even more so because the mother in the room cried out the obvious, “Z. You broke the dolphin.” His Sister hearing the foul so named took up the battle cry, and added her own brand of melodrama to the scene.
Probably because of the din and not a little in part because she was yelling at the children to, “Just stop, crying already. You are NOT hurt.” the mother failed to note the return of her husband with the pizza. The pizza and a neighbor. A neighbor who at this unfortunate moment was not deaf.
Gone now are all efforts to impress said neighbor with my enormous patience and parenting savvy. The secret is out. If she didn’t suspect before (which she probably did) now she knows, I’m just a real mom with real kids and we have a real life. A really good (albeit sometimes bumpy) life.