Thursday, June 4, 2009

Meteor

Sun passing through the window, casts shadows of light across the living room. A blue chair wraps me in a cocoon of solace where I can enjoy lunch, a brief respite in an otherwise hectic day. In contrast to the white plate, fingers of chicken and a red sauce, ketchup and tobasco. A soda to cool the refreshing burn.

Without warning, an orange meteor streaks through my atmosphere, gravity pulling it toward my meal. Tremors upon impact, a steaming crater left in its wake. Ejecta of hot fowl and sauce leave red streaks in its wake. My shirt, pants, chair, couch, walls, carpet bear witness of it's passing. Waves of tension force their way from throat, Aarrggh!

Following the trajectory back along it's course, a little boy stands. His lip trembles, eyes wide at the havoc his ball has caused. For brief seconds he stands froze, for him an eternity, then he runs to his room.

Breathe.

In those moments, when we know our mistakes have caught us, we run. Fleeing certain doom for an uncertain future. Hiding away, hoping that it will just go away. Or maybe if we act like it never happened, it really didn't and no one will notice. Heavy guilt remains shackling us to our shame. Or maybe it was daddy's fault for eating in the living room, if only he hadn't...then I wouldn't...we run from responsibility as well.

Exhale.

Its was just a mistake. You did not do it on purpose. Daddy is sorry for yelling out. Words whispered into hair, his body pressed into a hug. We all make mistakes, it's what we do with them that makes all the difference in the world. I love you. Sorry dad.

(Thanks mommy for cleaning it up.)

18 comments:

Ronda Laveen said...

It is so true that what we do with mistakes makes all the difference. The line about hiding away and hoping the problem will go away, caught my attention. A young woman who is the owner of the business I work at is so bad at this. I can't believe that no one taught her to say, I'm sorry. There's been a mistake. Or, I'm sorry, I just didn't know. She stands on the verge of losing her business because she disappears for days, weeks, months on end rather than take 5 minutes to face unplesantness. Don't have any answers here, just an observation.

Baino said...

Now weren't you told not to eat on your lap? I must admit the only time I've ever smacked my kids is out of my frustration rather than the misdemeanour and I've felt awful because of it. Hey, could have been the window! Adam once shot a pool ball right through the plate glass of our games room and the thing shattered like a windscreen, you should have seen his face, a more contrite little boy I've never witnessed! Hugs cure most things.

Crystal Jigsaw said...

What a lovely post. We do often get impatient with our children (child in my case!) and forget about our own childhood. Perhaps we give them permission to get their own back on us when we're old and they are adult! Blimey, we have at least one catastrophe in this house everyday - I dropped Amy's tea on the floor the other day whilst carrying it upstairs so she could eat it in her bedroom whilst she was playing on her playstation. I only had myself to blame!!

CJ xx

Brian Miller said...

ohh, such wonderful thought filled commments...

@ronda - unfortunately too many hide from conflict, only feeding the frustration and ruining relationships. in most relationships that are "engaged", lively, there will be conflict. you can not agree on everything. sorry to hear about the lady, she was probably taught the way she handles it now by watching...

@baino - i know. when T read this last night she said, I held my tongue...at you for eating in the living room. it's all my fault. (smiles) prob would have stood there open mouthed at the pool ball. too true about hugs.

@crystal - we have little accidents all the time. some funny, others... yeah, it can be easy to forget what it is like to be a kid, playing, testing, experimenting and finding ourselves ont he other end of the ball.

Rob said...

I wish you had a picture of the mess. That would have been a great visual.

Deborah said...

Oh so sweet. Good Daddy.

Daniel said...

Ejecta of hot fowl. Sounds like chicken porn. Brian, you have indeed changed since I last saw you. What's that? Oh, the G-rating thing. Sorry.
(He composes himself slightly.) Loved the visuals and the lessons learned by everyone. Nice post today.

Candie Bracci said...

This is so well written and true!Have a wonderful weekend great daddy!

jake (to the) holla said...

i still sit in a high-chair when i eat, and i'm all for wearing a bib. preferably a Spiderman bib.

Valerie said...

Awww, I loved that. Simply loved it. What more can I say? BRILLIANT, brilliant, brill....

Brian Miller said...

@rob - i might have broke the camera. it took me as long as changing clothes to cool off, biting my tongue.

@deborah - ty. did not feel like when he ran, but much better later...

@daniel - you never cease to give me belly aching laughter at your wit..

@candi - have a great weekend!

@jake - lol. i might need to take up the bib again

@valerie - ty

Lover of Life said...

What a great dad to recognize we make mistakes, and children feel so bad when they do. I remember my girls having the most stricken look on their faces when they spilled their milk at dinner - and they had never been in trouble for it. They were mortified.

Great post, very well written.

Matt @ The Church of No People said...

Hey Brian, thanks for commenting on my SCL post. Loving your writing here. Can't wait to read more. It's always great to make new acquaintances. Hope to see you around again. God bless and happy blogging!

otin said...

I remember those moments when you were a child, when you did something that you knew was going to get you a beating, but sometimes were surprised by your parents tolerance!

KLBK said...

"when we know our mistakes have caught us we run" very nice. oh , and retribution post, posted!!

Anonymous said...

Reminds of that time we disemboweled the car at Alice's house. Run Forrest Run. That was your idea, by the way.

-DF

Poetikat said...

Seems YOUR boys and carpets just don't go together, do they?

Kat

Mrsupole said...

Great story, makes you think of how the kids feel when they do it. The look of shock that they have and what they are thinking. We always have to put ourselves in the other person's shoes. Thanks for doing this.