The Gift Bag

Parenting: the toughest job in the world if you do it right.


I wrote this today.  It was an unexpected day off due to snow…no school.  A chance to do something different or more of the same.  I chose something different. I chose to write about my encounter with my son.

He hates me.  I see it in his eyes.  He wasn’t happy to see me, even though I was, in my own motherly sort of way.  I had finally found him.  I gave him an uncomfortable hug from an odd angle, him sitting, me standing, short portable wall in the way.  “How are you?” I asked with a smile.  He stared, that blank “I don’t give a shit” stare.  “I bought you some socks, some wool socks.”  I said as I gave him the gift bag that had been hanging in the hallway since Christmas. The gift bag that went with us whenever we ran errands  in case we happened to…

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About sandrabranum

I'm a philosopher, dreamer, poet, writer -- not necessarily in that order -- and I get to write it all down and share it with the world thanks to the Wonderful World Wide Web!
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