Frances Friday: Ooops Squared

One of the downsides of being so little is that when you are very eager to prove to Mummy what a big girl you are by using the toilet all by yourself, you might fall in.

You might end up crying with your feet stuck in the air, wedged firmly into the seat.

It might be a terrible assault on your self-image of a Big Girl, who is almost all grown up.

Fortunately, Mummy doesn't mind unwedging you, drying you off and giving you a hug until you feel all better. You're not yet too grown up for that.

You also might find a black ball point pen and decide that drawing in black pen on the black leather coffee table/storage ottoman would be invisible. You might not realize that when black ball-point pen is drawn on black, it looks purple. When your Mummy sees it, she might be very upset. She might say, in that I'm-upset tone that you hate, "Frances! What have you done!"

"I didn't mean to," you might say, immediately. "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to!"

"Oh Frances. I don't know how to clean pen off of leather. I might not be able to get this off. We might be stuck with this!"

"I didn't mean to," you might say again. Then your ribs might shake with sobs, your shoulders might fold in, tears might start dripping off your chin, your eyes might start turning red. "I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to!"

Your Mummy might kneel down to give you a hug and sit you up on the sofa so you can bury your face in her shoulder and grab her tightly. And maybe you will keep saying, "I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to!" She might not believe this, but she might snuggle you and kiss your hair and tell you that just because she's upset it doesn't mean she doesn't love you, she loves you very much and always will no matter what you do. And she knows that you are very sorry--when you might nod your head, still on her shoulder--and she knows that you will never ever do it again, will you? And then you might shake your head, still on her shoulder. And she might kiss you again, and in a few minutes ask you if you are feeling better. Now you might only be sniffling, so you nod your head again. "I didn't mean to," you might say again.

"Ok. I'll see if I can find out how to get pen off leather." She'll put her computer on her lap and type and while you start playing with the pen on paper mutter to herself, "Nail polish remover, hairspray, perfume." Then she might disappear upstairs again and when she comes downstairs she might say, "Just my luck not to have any of them. Maybe this will do it." And you might go over to watch her rub something white and wet on the coffee table, and the pen might start going away. "There. I think it's working."

"It is. It's working," you might say. And your lips might still be trembling a little and your eyes might still be pink, and your cheeks damp, and your breathing might still be a jagged; but anyway you might say, "I'm feeling a little better now" in a shaky voice, because you try so hard to be brave. And Mummy might stop rubbing the table to give you another hug. "Good, I'm glad," she might say. "I'll finish this up. You go play. Look, see? It's ok. You did something you weren't supposed to do and Mummy got upset but now it's all ok. Right?"

Maybe you'll nod. You're not sure.

"It's sad and it's scary when Mummy gets upset, isn't it?" You might nod again. "That's going to happen sometimes. When you do something you know you're not supposed to do, I will get upset. But then we'll fix it and it will be all better, and no matter what you do, I'm going to love you."

When it is all done and the pen is gone you might snuggle on her lap on the couch again, your head resting against her chest and the fingers of your right hand making a house for the baby mole. And you might still feel a little shaky and a bit like crying, but Mummy will kiss the top of your head and tell you that she is the luckiest mom ever, because that's what she does.

Posted by Andrea at February 1, 2008 6:51 AM under Frances Friday

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