This is Why I Can’t Have Nice Things…

Today, rather than vacuum and tidy up in the morning, I instead took a shower, did my hair, put in my contacts, and put on makeup. I felt gorgeous and awesome and I thought, “Well maybe the kids and I will do something today”. ToddlerGirl wanted to go to “the baby store”, so off we went. I was happy, I felt pretty, and awesome.

Big mistake. We get to the store and ToddlerGirl wants to play Fruit Ninja on my phone. I hand it to her, as Mister always lets her play on his phone when we’re out. All of a sudden…”Mommy I dropped your phone!” I turn around, pick up the battery cover, snap it back on, and flip it over, at which point my heart falls into my stomach, smashes through it, and hits the floor. The glass LCD cover is cracked. Not cracked. Splintered. Fractured. I dunno. It was broken.

All parts of the phone were still functional, and I breathed a slight sigh of relief before my heart sank again. I had to tell the Mister. ToddlerGirl was crying, repeating Sorry over and over. I tried my best to comfort her, fighting back tears myself. I did NOT want to tell him. I sent him a text, and got back exactly the type of reply I expected. He is FURIOUS with me.

Our visit to the store was cut short and we made our way home, where the following conversation took place:

ToddlerGirl: Mommy, why are you crying?
Me: Well, honey, Daddy’s irritated with me right now.
TG: He’s angry at you?
Me: Yes.
TG: Why?
Me: Because I broke my phone.
TG: (thinks for a minute) Mommy, he shouldn’t be mad at you. I broke your phone. I’m so so so sorry!
Me: It’s okay sweetheart.

Anyone who knows ToddlerGirl knows it’s hard to be upset with her. I couldn’t be mad. In the grand scheme of things, I should be glad…glad that my children are well enough to break my things. I know plenty of parents who would give anything to have one more moment with their children, even if that moment is spent breaking a phone.

So I resolved that I will bear the brunt of Mister’s anger. I will let him be mad at me for breaking my phone simply because I should have gotten a case for it. I will remove my makeup, take out my contacts, and pull my hair back into a normal ponytail, because I should have vacuumed instead of making myself pretty this morning. If I had vacuumed instead, I wouldn’t have been so happy that I’d actually leave the house. TG would not have asked to play Fruit Ninja, and I would not have broken my phone.

I had promised her a Happy Meal for lunch, and on our way back from the store, when I just wanted to go home and be sad and miserable, I heard very quiet sniffles. I pulled over and looked at TG, who was crying silently. My heart broke, and I managed a weak smile.

“You want nuggets and apple slices, babygirl?”  I asked. The tentative smile I got for an answer lifted my spirits.

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