We all know the perfect Brat, the one that wraps the world around
his or her finger at an early age with the flip of a curl, the batting
of eyelashes or the perfectly timed hug. Some kids are better con
artists than millionaire pyramid scam operators. This is a story about
just such a child, the apple of her Mother's eye, and the bane of her
Mother's existence.
.
Margaret looked at the clock desperately hoping for some good news. The clock mocked her with its blinking red digital numbers:
7:45... 7:45... 7:45... 7:45...
.
It was quarter of eight in the morning and Margaret was officially running late. She still had to get Sara, her four-year old, dressed before dropping her off at the Babysitter's. Margaret was already in a foul mood, and the day was just starting. She had been up all night with bad menstrual cramps. It was the worst she ever endured. She was still pissed off at Jim, her ex-husband, who refused to give her more money for Sara's ballet lessons, and he was late on his alimony check anyway. She knew it was going to be another one of those F $@#&* days.
.
Margaret doubled over with the nagging pains that spread throughout her belly and down her lower back."Oh my God," she cried, as the pain was unbearable, "where are my Mydols?" She searched her drawers and the medicine chest. "Ah there it is." I need a smoke. Damn, I'm out of cigarettes."
"Sara?... will you hurry up!" Margaret screamed. "Mommy is going to be late. Don't forget to wear that new red blouse I bought you yesterday."
.
"I don't like it." Sara, half crying, yelled back.
.
"I thought Red was your favorite color?" Margaret responded. Sara started to throw a hissy fit and refused to dress.
.
"Fine, then wear the pink one with those cute little hearts on it, you like pink, right?"
.
Margaret put her hands to her head as she sat at the table muttering to herself. "I don't believe this, it's already 8:00 am and I'm still here. I need a smoke real bad." she fumed, realizing she didn't have any smokes.
.
Sara started to throw another hissy fit. Margaret couldn't stand it anymore and began cursing under her breath. She was in no mood for this, even though the menstrual pain was subsiding a bit. She looked at her adorable daughter, with her Shirley Temple style curly hair, dimpled cheeks, and wondered where she went wrong?
.
"Now what's the matter, Sara.?" she asked as she heard her daughter whining.
.
" I don't want to go to Mrs. Brown, she's so boring," Sara screamed. "I don't like her. Why can't I come with you?"
.
"I explained this to you yesterday, honey, Mommy has to go to work and will be home later today when she's done." she responded.
.
Margaret was glad that she had Mrs. Brown. She had scored with Mrs. Brown because she was much cheaper than the daycare service. She had to cut corners some how in order to make the payments on her Mercedes-Benz. Mrs. Brown, a widow, was babysitting other children as well. Margaret thought Mrs. Brown seemed like a sweet lady with a lot of patience, especially when dealing with Sara. Yet Margaret was annoyed with Mrs. Brown's remark that Sara didn't play well with the other kids. "I think your daughter needs to improve her social skills." Mrs. Brown had told Margaret.
.
"She is acting very aggressively with the toys, taking them away from the other children, saying they are hers. She even pushed one of the other kids, and then banged a toy on the floor until it broke." Margaret bit her tongue, not wanting to make waves. She excused Sara's behavior, mentioning to Mrs. Brown that Sara was an only child from a broken home who found it hard to interact with other children. She promised Mrs. Brown that, with time, Sara would get better.
.
Margaret kept staring at the clock as Sarah continued whining and throwing hissy fits. Margaret was at her wits' end, she had to be on time for a meeting with a new client. This meeting could mean an important contract with a big bonus in it for her, plus a VP position if she could pull it off. She turned to Sarah and said. "If you hurry up and get dressed, Mommy will buy you that pretty doll that you like so much."
Sara immediately shut up and smiled, replying in her sweet "I'm-getting-something' little voice, "Mommy can you get me a new carriage too? I don't like the one she has now. It's ugly."
.
At this point Margaret would agree to anything just to shut Sara up and get her moving.
.
"Yes, Sara, your birthday is coming up next week and I will get it for you then." Sara started to whine again, jumping up and down because she didn't get her way right away. Margaret's patience was shot, so she said, "Okay, when I come home tonight you'll have your pretty doll and carriage too."
.
"Promise?" Sara asked.
.
"Yes, sweetie, I promise."
.
Sara hugged her mother and gave her a kiss. "Thank you Mommy, you're the best Mommy anyone can have." Margaret put the cell phone to her ear, relieved, and hugged her daughter back.
.
Sara, sitting quietly in the car, looked at her Mom and smiled, saying to herself, 'It worked.'
.
.
Margaret looked at the clock desperately hoping for some good news. The clock mocked her with its blinking red digital numbers:
7:45... 7:45... 7:45... 7:45...
.
It was quarter of eight in the morning and Margaret was officially running late. She still had to get Sara, her four-year old, dressed before dropping her off at the Babysitter's. Margaret was already in a foul mood, and the day was just starting. She had been up all night with bad menstrual cramps. It was the worst she ever endured. She was still pissed off at Jim, her ex-husband, who refused to give her more money for Sara's ballet lessons, and he was late on his alimony check anyway. She knew it was going to be another one of those F $@#&* days.
.
Margaret doubled over with the nagging pains that spread throughout her belly and down her lower back."Oh my God," she cried, as the pain was unbearable, "where are my Mydols?" She searched her drawers and the medicine chest. "Ah there it is." I need a smoke. Damn, I'm out of cigarettes."
"Sara?... will you hurry up!" Margaret screamed. "Mommy is going to be late. Don't forget to wear that new red blouse I bought you yesterday."
.
"I don't like it." Sara, half crying, yelled back.
.
"I thought Red was your favorite color?" Margaret responded. Sara started to throw a hissy fit and refused to dress.
.
"Fine, then wear the pink one with those cute little hearts on it, you like pink, right?"
.
Margaret put her hands to her head as she sat at the table muttering to herself. "I don't believe this, it's already 8:00 am and I'm still here. I need a smoke real bad." she fumed, realizing she didn't have any smokes.
.
Sara started to throw another hissy fit. Margaret couldn't stand it anymore and began cursing under her breath. She was in no mood for this, even though the menstrual pain was subsiding a bit. She looked at her adorable daughter, with her Shirley Temple style curly hair, dimpled cheeks, and wondered where she went wrong?
.
"Now what's the matter, Sara.?" she asked as she heard her daughter whining.
.
" I don't want to go to Mrs. Brown, she's so boring," Sara screamed. "I don't like her. Why can't I come with you?"
.
"I explained this to you yesterday, honey, Mommy has to go to work and will be home later today when she's done." she responded.
.
Margaret was glad that she had Mrs. Brown. She had scored with Mrs. Brown because she was much cheaper than the daycare service. She had to cut corners some how in order to make the payments on her Mercedes-Benz. Mrs. Brown, a widow, was babysitting other children as well. Margaret thought Mrs. Brown seemed like a sweet lady with a lot of patience, especially when dealing with Sara. Yet Margaret was annoyed with Mrs. Brown's remark that Sara didn't play well with the other kids. "I think your daughter needs to improve her social skills." Mrs. Brown had told Margaret.
.
"She is acting very aggressively with the toys, taking them away from the other children, saying they are hers. She even pushed one of the other kids, and then banged a toy on the floor until it broke." Margaret bit her tongue, not wanting to make waves. She excused Sara's behavior, mentioning to Mrs. Brown that Sara was an only child from a broken home who found it hard to interact with other children. She promised Mrs. Brown that, with time, Sara would get better.
.
Margaret kept staring at the clock as Sarah continued whining and throwing hissy fits. Margaret was at her wits' end, she had to be on time for a meeting with a new client. This meeting could mean an important contract with a big bonus in it for her, plus a VP position if she could pull it off. She turned to Sarah and said. "If you hurry up and get dressed, Mommy will buy you that pretty doll that you like so much."
Sara immediately shut up and smiled, replying in her sweet "I'm-getting-something' little voice, "Mommy can you get me a new carriage too? I don't like the one she has now. It's ugly."
.
At this point Margaret would agree to anything just to shut Sara up and get her moving.
.
"Yes, Sara, your birthday is coming up next week and I will get it for you then." Sara started to whine again, jumping up and down because she didn't get her way right away. Margaret's patience was shot, so she said, "Okay, when I come home tonight you'll have your pretty doll and carriage too."
.
"Promise?" Sara asked.
.
"Yes, sweetie, I promise."
.
Sara hugged her mother and gave her a kiss. "Thank you Mommy, you're the best Mommy anyone can have." Margaret put the cell phone to her ear, relieved, and hugged her daughter back.
.
Sara, sitting quietly in the car, looked at her Mom and smiled, saying to herself, 'It worked.'
.
If you would like to read more articles like this or on a wide range of topics please visit: http://mimispeaks.blogspot.com/2013/04/a-writers-niche-and-her-chit-chat-over.html
Miriam B. Medina loves to write and at length too. So I suggest you
find yourself a comfortable chair, and while you are at it, grab a
steaming hot cup of coffee and a bagel with cream cheese and you will be
all set to settle down for a while. Happy reading.
.
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