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Writer's pictureSarah Z.

My Dog Ate My Attempt at Good Parenting


The mother was dressed in clean clothes and had taken a shower and applied deoderant. This was one of her better-smelling days. She had meditated. She had exercised. She had swept the floors without crying and walked the nimble dog. She was annihilating her list of tasks like a warrior queen with a flaming sword and at the end of the day, she felt accomplished and peaceful. Just before setting out- on her eco-friendly bicycle-to collect her child from school, the mother lovingly scooped peanut butter into a dish and cut apple slices to her progeny's exact specifications. Upon their return home, the child would have a delicious and nutritious snack waiting. This was a good day. The mother was good. Today her home was full of protein and peace. On the way home, the child disclosed that they had arranged an impromptu play date this day, and if the mother were to say no or to ask any questions to clarify the child's plans, the child would raise their own small flaming sword against the good mother. The mother felt a little less peace. Walking through the front door, mother and child found nimble dog had leaped over the barriers to the kitchen and enjoyed the child's protein-rich snack. Mother felt a lot less peace. The mother yelled. The dog fled. The girl looked on in horror. Now the mother's home was full of naughty dogs and hungry children, loud noise and disappointment. Then the mother laughed. She laughed and laughed and found a tiny bit of peace left in the house. Once they saw that it was OK, the child laughed. The nimble, naughty dog laughed. The play date commenced with pre-packaged snacks. Now her home was full of chaos, compromise, laughter, peace, and plans to find taller gaits.


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