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Miss Fiona is ordinarily the sunniest of teenagers, surprisingly free of angst and woe. Today, however, was not an ordinary day.
She came home uncharacteristically out of sorts from working at the library. I asked whether she planned on going to karate tonight, but she informed me, no, tonight was the library book club, which she has been going to and enjoying for months. I asked what time I was supposed to drop her there, and she checked the website, only to discover that she had mistaken her dates. The book club meeting was last week. "So are you going to karate instead?" I unwisely asked.
This, somehow, seemed the last straw to what must have been a very bad day. Miss Fiona, as she does in times of stress, scrambled up the tree beside the front porch, and sat on the roof of the porch tosulk brood like a typical teenager. Hoping to cheer her up, I yelled up at her, "Fiona we couldn't get tickets to the midnight show of Harry Potter--they were all sold out--but we got tickets for 7:00 tomorrow night."
From the roof of the porch over my head, a cri de coeur . . . "I've got babysitting tomorrow night!"
Oops. Obviously Mommy had screwed up, and now an already bad day had just turned to total woe.
I set my jaw. I went inside, checked the website, came back out, and called back up again to the corner of the roof of the porch: "Fiona? How would you like to go to see the 3:00 a.m. show of Harry Potter tonight?"
There was a pause, and then I saw bare feet jostling the branches. Fiona's tear-stained face appeared around the edge of the roof. "Really? You'd do that?"
I gritted my teeth. "Mommy screwed up. Yes, I will."
So we're about to leave to see the movie. I'm too old for this, but a Mom's gotta do what a Mom's gotta do.
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She came home uncharacteristically out of sorts from working at the library. I asked whether she planned on going to karate tonight, but she informed me, no, tonight was the library book club, which she has been going to and enjoying for months. I asked what time I was supposed to drop her there, and she checked the website, only to discover that she had mistaken her dates. The book club meeting was last week. "So are you going to karate instead?" I unwisely asked.
This, somehow, seemed the last straw to what must have been a very bad day. Miss Fiona, as she does in times of stress, scrambled up the tree beside the front porch, and sat on the roof of the porch to
From the roof of the porch over my head, a cri de coeur . . . "I've got babysitting tomorrow night!"
Oops. Obviously Mommy had screwed up, and now an already bad day had just turned to total woe.
I set my jaw. I went inside, checked the website, came back out, and called back up again to the corner of the roof of the porch: "Fiona? How would you like to go to see the 3:00 a.m. show of Harry Potter tonight?"
There was a pause, and then I saw bare feet jostling the branches. Fiona's tear-stained face appeared around the edge of the roof. "Really? You'd do that?"
I gritted my teeth. "Mommy screwed up. Yes, I will."
So we're about to leave to see the movie. I'm too old for this, but a Mom's gotta do what a Mom's gotta do.
Edited to add: Some nice additional comments to this post over at
metaquotes here. Thanks!
