bad mommy

“Mom, where’s my *stick collection?”
“Your what?”
“My sticks. I collect one everywhere I go.”
Suddenly I have an image of the pile of dirty, broken, bug infested kindling that I found **under the kitchen table and threw in the trash.
“Umm, I think it got accidentally thrown away..”
Begin crying, wailing and moaning that brings Dad into the conversation.
“Oh, I’m so sorry Mommy did that. When I was a boy, my parents used to . . .”
The two victims give me the evil glare and wander off while Dad geezes .

* substitute gravel, wood chips, acorns, leaves, bottle tops, milk cartons, wrappers and any other item that would normally be considered trash.

**substitute kitchen, bathroom, my bedroom and anywhere except the child’s room.

2 thoughts on “bad mommy

  1. Hah! I know the feeling from your child’s side of the issue.

    Once (at around 16) I had spent quite some time picking up tiny little shells at the beach. I was on a trip with a friend’s family. I set them in the car. The friend’s father tossed them out. I was quite sad, although I didn’t make a big to do about it to this man I barely knew.

    Also, our pupster brings home sticks all the time from our walks. I’ve kept many of them. Not sure why, probably because I think it is cute. Keep in mind I don’t have kids and the pupster can only drag in a limited type/amount of things.

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