Revenge of the Righteous

(Disclaimer: If any of you have been laboring under the false notion that E is a perfect child or that I, heaven forbid, am a perfect mother, please read no further unless you want your illusions shattered.)

So this morning we were (or at least I was) rushing to get us all to the library in time for storytime complete with a picnic lunch we could eat on the way to preschool. E was being unusually recalcitrant, especially on the subject of socks and whether she would wear them and which ones she would wear and if she would wear them or not unless I cut off all little dangly strings and if she would put them on herself or make me do it. On top of this, when I sent her to her room for stealing her sister's hat THREE TIMES after being told THREE TIMES not to she told me that "you never ask me if I want to do anything, you just always tell me, and it's not fair!" This just happened to be the straw that broke the exasperated Mommy's back.

So, judge me as you will, the top of my head exploded and I ranted and raved at her for a bit. Mommy ranting, E crying, M jumping around saying "Mommy, I'm doing what you say! Look, I have my shoes on already," Tooie dabbling in the breakfast he threw on the floor--it was quite the scene. 

By some miracle, we made it into the car all together with no broken bones or blood vessels and turned on some soft music to soothe all of us savage beasts. E wanted me to turn off the music so she could sing something. So I turned it off and waited, and she started singing . . . "I see my mother kneeling with the family each day etc. etc. etc. love is spoken here."

I would have felt like a real worm if she hadn't sung it in such a self-righteous way, and if it hadn't been so funny when you think about it, and if I didn't know that darn it, she had a little lecture coming to her anyway! And I suppose I did to, and she gave it to me.

Heaven help us all.