This morning I woke to-
Mom, aren't you going to get up and make green pancakes?
This comes from the child who loves the color green. It's my favorite too. And I love Ireland and Irish people. But, this is his day. He's already dressed in a green shirt, black shorts and green baseball socks to his knees. He's his own little Leprechaun.
Oh yes, I think. St. Patrick's Day.
I pull myself out of bed and head to the kitchen. It will be a tight morning. Finding green for Toots, making pancakes, getting lunches ready.
Then, I remember mom left yesterday and I'm a little sad. She would have liked all this green madness.
Another child emerges, not dressed yet and the green boy leans toward him, a fake pinch.
But, the sleepy one thinks he's coming in for the kill and yells- he pinched me-
and then lunges toward him.
He finds a spot, pinching skin hard between his fingers.
The green boy cries, his happy morning melted to painful tears.
My temper rises. I can feel it coming to the surface. Deep breathing holds it in check.
He didn't pinch you. He was playing. It's St. Patrick's Day. Did you not realize that?
He pinched me first.
No, he did not. Apologize and let's take a look at what you did. See the welt? Maybe we'll start Christmas with a spanking. Wouldn't that be fun boy who loves any type of holiday? You've ruined his morning. Apologize.
He looks at me, getting it.
The morning is restored by green pancakes and milk. Batter formed into the first letter of their names.
We are running a little late and as I walk out the door, Destructo Dog sprints out, chasing a deer.
She is coaxed in by a shaking bag of cheese.
We make it on time, barely.
But, I still feel the stress in my shoulders, the contained anger.
Little Bear gets breakfast now. He rejects the green pancakes and decides to shampoo his hair with yogurt. Today, I don't find it amusing.
Okay, green day. At least I am getting my hair done today.
That can make any girl feel better.