Why Did You Make Me Move Here?


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The sun dawned with sultry sensuality. ( I’m taking a break from my usual “S” word.) It was the kind of sunrise that you only see once every couple of years and even then only on late and lazy summer mornings. The hazy horizon beamed it’s brilliant, promising smile upon the land. If I’ve managed to entangle you in romance and optimism with my description, don’t be fooled – like I was.
It was on such a morning that the Carey family happily took a treck to the field. There were a few bails of hay here and there that needed to be hauled to the barn and my husband and I thought it would be a fun way to spend the day with the boys. (If you’ve read my earlier blog, “A Roll In The Hay,” right about now a horrible foreboding will be creeping up your spine.)
I was driving the truck while Paul threw the bails, and our boys seemed to share in the optimism. ” Thank you for letting us move here mom! We love our life! This is the best! Nobody has better parents than we do! ” Oh, how much I’ve learned since that day. Beware, new parents, for just as you’re basking in the glory of your kid’s approval, they’ll remind you what they REALLY think. And so it was on this day.
Bouncing around the backseat may be fun when you’re a teenager, but I could tell that the boys were becoming restless in such a confined space and the mercury was beginning to soar. Despite my tendencies toward the overprotective, I suggested they ride on the hay trailer that was attached to the truck. I immediately regretted this hasty decision.
The boys were jumping all over the place and I was afraid that they’d fall off the trailer and break their necks. In a soothing, sing song voice, I gently requested that they ” SIT THE HELL DOWN THIS INSTANT BEFORE YOU FALL ON YOUR HEADS!!!!!!!!” Unfortunately my loving and motherly advise was too little too late and just as looked in the mirror to see if they had heard my calm, controlled reprimand, the oldest tumbled off of the top bail, off the tailgate, and rolled all the way down the hill! I gasped in terror, slammed the truck into park, and ran to him with open arms. He slowly got up and looked around.  I was relieved to see he was OK even though his lower lip was jutting out and he was about to cry. I opened my arms wider and crouched down on the grass to make it easier for him to run right into them. Run he did, straight for the loving arms of mommy, where broken hearts and bruised pride must surely be mended. He was roughly six inches away when he abruptly stopped. I thought maybe dirt had got in his mouth by the funny way his tongue stuck out and so reached out to wipe it away. And that’s when my idea of being his hero burst like a balloon violently pricked with a needle. I was sure I could hear the pop. As he couldn’t speak while sticking his tongue out – at me – he reluctantly put it back where it belonged. “WHY DID YOU MAKE ME MOVE HERE? NONE OF MY FRIENDS WORK AS HARD AS YOU MAKE ME! I HATE IT HERE! YOU ONLY HAD ME BECAUSE YOU NEEDED A SLAVE AND DAD REFUSED THAT JOB! ” He stomped off the field in a fit of melodramatic that actually made me kind of proud, even though he gets it from his father.
Needless to say the day didn’t quite turn out the way we had pictured.
But then, they rarely do.

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2 thoughts on “Why Did You Make Me Move Here?

  1. So he’s caught on to the real reason why you had him…you know they’re finding out younger and younger these days; looks like your free ride is over

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