Redemption

It’s probably just as well I had no takers for last week’s Wanted Ad.

In between my monster-like rants at the kids’ misbehaviour while I was trying to work, there shone a few heart-warming moments that brought about a major case of the guilts.

My poor three have basically been fending for themselves these past two weeks while I have tried to turn out some work from home.

In amongst the fisticuffs (them, not me) they’ve had to use their imaginations and come up with their own entertainment day after day.

This involved picking up the other phone and making rude noises while I was on an important work-related call.

But despite my occasional “psyche-outs”, it just goes to show that a child’s love for their parents is unconditional for, after yet another period of neglect, I found a surprise waiting for me.

The twins had decided (perhaps in an attempt to improve my mood) that I needed an afternoon snack. So they set about picking tomatoes from the garden and squeezing them into a wine glass full of water. To add flourish, one of them had even sliced an extra piece of tomato and draped it over the edge of the glass. This was sitting next to a bowlful of yet more crudely cut up tomatoes and a spoon, all ready to eat.

It was tomato-central and they’d made one heck of a mess making it.

“Ohhh how lovely,” I exclaimed truly touched, yet a little horrified.

“Drink it Mummy!” they ordered excitedly while I dubiously eyed the floating pulp in the murky water.

I feigned a sip, which they seemed satisfied with before they, proud as punch, offered the bowlful of chunky tomato bits.

“Umm I think I might save that for pudding,” I said putting it in the fridge, thanking them, then walking back to my work station.

“Mummy, don’t forget your drink!” called out Master Five chasing me with the increasingly-cloudy tomato water.

“Oh that will be lovely to sip on while I do my work,” I replied taking it off him and sitting it on the desk.

But they weren’t going to let me forget it. In fact, every time I left the room, Master Five would follow me with the concoction.

“Oh look Mum! I’ve found some more tomato to go in your drink!” he cried picking off the floor one of the many pieces of pulp left over from the carnage and dropping it into my glass.

I watched it sink its way through the murk to the bottom with the rest and then looked up at his hopeful face. I felt like I’d been a right cow to my children all week so I would do this for a shot at redemption.

I took a sip and tried not to barf.

But I must’ve done a good job of hiding my distaste for the next day I vaguely remember one of the twins asking me a question.

“Mmmhmm,” I replied completely distracted.

They shot off on a mission and half an hour later I was summonsed to the kitchen.

What greeted me was the same scene from the day before – ‘cept this time they’d added a fancy straw.

“And we’ve put the bowl of tomatoes in the fridge for your pudding,” they declared.

I’d made my bed with this one. I picked up the glass for round two and, catching sight of their eager little faces, made a mental note to withdraw the Wanted Ad.