A Time Out for Mom
This morning I cut up a juicy naval orange and served the sweet slices to Tin who threw one on the floor.
I slammed the spoon down I was about to bring to him for his nicely warmed oatmeal and plumped raisins and decided to put myself in a time out – I took my delicious tea in my cup with the beach scene on it and sat on the porch to the sounds of birds chirping and Tin whining in the background.
When he stopped, I came in and gave him his breakfast again.
There is nothing like breaking the spell of urgency that has plagued me my whole life than to be the subject of a tiny tyrant giving you orders. Like a friend’s father always says, “I don’t like orders.”