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It's Never Your Fault.V2

It's Never Your Fault.V2

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Published by: Michael G Morrish Jr on Jan 19, 2010
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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It’s Never Your Fault This is my big brother. He’s my best friend. He teaches me lots of skateboard tricks.

Some days I pretend I’m a famous Skateboarder. This is my Mom. She’s our Teacher. We like to do science experiments in the kitchen. Some days I pretend I’m a famous Chef. This is my Dad. He draws houses. We sit at his desk and draw pictures together. Some days I pretend I’m a famous Artist. Some days we play at the beach. Some days we explore a museum. Some days we just act silly and laugh till our faces hurt. Those are the good days. But some days Mom and Dad yell at each other. On those days it’s like a storm gets in the house. Sometimes the storm sits on my Dad’s head - it makes him look angry and mad. Sometimes it lands on my Moms face - it makes her look tired and sad. If it’s a big storm thunder comes out of my Dad’s mouth. It’s so loud my ears hurt and it makes me afraid. Sometimes the storm is full of rain and it falls from my Mom’s eyes. That makes me sad. I can tell when a storm is coming.

The house gets real quiet. I try to tell Mom a joke, but she just says, “Not now, honey.” I try to help my Dad with work but he just says, “Go play in your room.” No matter what I do, they don’t seem to hear me. Then it’s too late. The storm breaks and I can’t stop it. I feel like it’s all my fault. Those are the bad days. On the bad days, I pretend I’m a seagull. I fly away high above the storm where no one can tell me to be quiet or go to my room. Or I pretend I’m a turtle with a hard shell. I pull in my arms and legs and head and hide so no one could find me. One day, during a really big storm, I went to my quiet place. I wanted to be alone. Then I heard a knock. It was Dad. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered. I nodded my head yes. “Even though Mom and Dad have big bodies, we’re still growing on the inside.” “You mean like a puppy? I asked. Dad laughed. “Well, sort of. I mean we're still growing in our hearts and our heads. We’re still learning how to be good parents.” There was another knock. It was Mom.

“Can I come in?” she asked. “OK,” I said “Do you want to know another secret?” she asked. “Sure,” I said. I like when my parents tell me secrets. “We learn how to be good parents from you.” “Really” I said. I was amazed. “But . . . how?” “Well, sometimes you're like a mirror for us.” Dad said. “We can see how good we're doing by how happy you are.” “But sometimes we forget and we don't see you very clearly”smiled Mom, “Like when you tried to make me laugh earlier.” “I could tell you were sad and I wanted to make you feel better“ I said. “I know sweety,” said Mom. And she gave me a kiss. “And sometimes we don't listen very well either,” said Dad, “Like when you wanted to help me draw today.” “I wanted to help so you didn't have to work so long,” I said. “I know, buddy,” said Dad. “Do you want to know the most important thing?” Mom asked. “Sure,” I smiled. I was feeling lots better. “It's never you're fault when Mom and Dad yell.” “Really?” I said. “Yes, honey. No matter what happens, It’s never your fault when Mom and Dad yell.” Then they both hugged me real tight. That was the best day.

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