The thing about children is…they do stuff like spilling an entire bottle of syrup onto the living room carpet—and then they cry about it. Like, hold up—shouldn’t I be the one crying?!! I just moved into a new apartment and I am on a MISSION to keep things looking presentable at the very least. My children, however, are on a mission to do just the opposite. I’m not saying that children are the devil…but children have red faces, hooves and two horns coming out of the top of their heads.

And it’s just plain wrong to discipline a child for spilling a bottle of syrup that had no business being in the living room (it was there because somebody—me—decided a midnight snack of pancakes with syrup was the best idea EVER the night before), so I watched her cry. I scrubbed and I scrubbed; counted each stroke as a triceps workout and I let it go.

Now if only I could be so forgiving toward other adults…

 

*This has been the first installment of the "I Know Why the Caged Mom Drinks" series of fun anecdotes and stories of single motherhood. Check back for more posts just like this! ~Whiskey

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