To Nathanael
Sept 18, 2006

Today, I had a “bad mommy moment”. I lied to you. As you know, sugar can make me a bit irrational. After we got home from school, I was sitting in the van because Noey had fallen asleep when suddenly it came, the sugar crave. “Luckily”, I remembered there was a zip lock bag with three Twizzlers sitting on top of the refrigerator just waiting to be consumed. I had been watching them for a few days and figured since no one had asked for them, you and Noah, which ever they belonged to, had forgotten about them. So, I went into the house. Relieved to see they were still on the fridge, I grabbed them and tucked them up under my shirt. Nonchalantly, I went back to the van, where I devoured them as if they were the last waxy sugary licorice sticks, I love so much, on the planet. Satisfied, I went back to reading, “Waiting for Godot.” Wouldn’t you know, about ten minutes later, I hear you coming in distress, down the sidewalk around the corner of the house to the van.
“Mom, do you know where my Twizzlers are? They were on top of the refrigerator?”
“What Twizzlers?”
“They were on top of the refrigerator.”
“You had Twizzlers?”
I wanted to tell you the truth so badly, but inside I panicked. Your big brown eyes were already showing signs of stress and I was afraid that you would throw a tantrum. But most of all, I was deeply embarrassed by my lack of self control and now lie. I didn’t want to expose the sugar monster I was to you and I didn’t want to see the disappointment in your eyes.
“Yeah, they were on top of the refrigerator”, you urgently continued to press.
“I’m not sure. Didn’t the ice cream truck just go by?” I said trying to distract from the missing Twizzlers.
“Yes, Daddy said it wasn’t Sugar Saturday. Why do we have to have Sugar Saturday?”
Relieved you had forgotten the Twizzlers for a second I said quickly, “Why don’t we have a treat later?”
“Okay,” you say and head inside.
Later, when I came in, I went to Daddy’s office and told him what had happened. Of course, he was disappointed and told me it was best to confess my wrong to you. But first, I had to go to 7-eleven to purchase a peace offering, a fresh pack of Twizzlers.
You were sitting on the chair in the living room when I said I need to talk to you. I sat down on the ottoman facing you and said, “Mommy did a bad thing today.”
“What?” you said with a curious smile that was trying not to smile.
“You know when I said I didn’t know where you Twizzlers were? Well I did, and I ate them.”
Without hesitation and ever so earnestly you said, “That’s okay. I forgive you.”
I was moved by your quick willingness to forgive, when I had committed what I knew in your eyes to be a heinous crime, and my eyes began to tear. I pulled out the pack of Twizzlers from 7-eleven and said, “I got these for you to share with your brother.”
Through tears you replied, “That’s okay. You can have them.”
“No sweetie, I got them for you.”
“How much did they cost?” you asked, upset because I was upset.
“About fifty cents.”
“I will give you fifty cents.”
“No sweetie. Mommy was wrong and I want you to have them.”
You smiled a genuine smile of delight and pulled one off and handed it to me. I cannot find the words to express how proud I was of your character at that moment.