Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The logic of a child's mind

Yesterday, I took the heathens clothes shopping.
It was a unmitigated disaster.
Bug tried to open the door. He was strong enough to open it a bit, but not all the way.
So I reach out to pull open the door.
Disaster strikes.
Bug's foot, in sandals, was under the edge of the door and his big toe was damaged.
Cut, scraped, and falling off (according to him).
The nice ladies at the store gave us bandages and ointment, as Bug sobbed about his hurt toe loudly enough for the entire store to hear.
For the fifteen minutes it took me to grab some jeans, pay and leave.
Then he declared it my fault.
And that I did it on purpose.
In his mind, my helping open the door was a malicious attack designed to maim his innocent big toe. And I cackled malevolently as he suffered.
Because that's the kind of mom I am.
And I wonder about the workings of my child's mind.
I wonder if he's forgotten the nights holding him while he was sick.
I wonder if he's forgotten about all the times I've bandaged him up from his own accidents--and those happened when i wasn't anywhere near him.
For him to state I deliberately hurt him hurts me.
And he's oblivious.
Whereas he can hit me in the face and state it was an accident, in his mind, I'm not allowed to have accidents.
I am deliberate.
Intentional.
And I hurt him on purpose.
But I did get some nice jeans out of it.
For him.

1 comment:

Tara said...

Whip me. Beat me. Call me mom.