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Posted by Tamara O.
There are moments I feel great about my actions as a mom because in those moments, I think I’m a good mom. Then there are all the other times.
Like Sunday.
After an especially busy day running the kids to activities all day, my husband Bob took the girls out for a bike ride while I cleaned up after dinner and shuttled my son to the tennis courts.
As soon as we left the house, I spotted it. A giant gouge on the back fender of my beautiful dark cherry SUV. I felt sick to my stomach. I started crying. I knew instantly that one of the girls scraped it with their bike. Anger blinded me.
The kids know how much I love that car. I park far away from other cars to avoid those other owners from banging my car with their doors. I am always on the lookout for dangers that might befall it. I didn’t think it would be one of my own kids who would ruin its pristine paint.
By the time I returned from the tennis courts, the girls were home. I screamed at them to meet me outside. I figured my youngest was the guilty party, but my 10-year-old burst into tears and admitted doing it. I started screaming at her. Yes, outside where all the neighbors could hear. How could she do that to my car? I’ll spare you the rant, but I had both of us sobbing.
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I was still furious at bedtime and she was still sobbing in her room, though I heard her sneak downstairs to put her savings –$31 — on my purse, telling me to use it to make the repairs.
I’m still angry and looking at the scrape this morning made me cry all over again. You might say it’s just a car, that it was just an accident. You’d probably be right.
As I said, it’s not my proudest moment. Now I’m left to wonder how much it will cost to fix both the car and my relationship with my sweet, accident-prone daughter?