I know you’re supposed to love your children unconditionally.
All the parenting guides talk about how important it is for children to feel they have a safe space to be fully loved, and fully known. The experts agree that a happy child is one that is respected and considered with warm regard in all circumstances.
But I can’t do it.
I just can’t love them unconditionally anymore.
I think if it were a moral failing I’d be able to recover from this. If it was poor decision-making or youthful indiscretion, I could manage it. But this.
… I’ll never recover.
I cleaned the back of the Suburban this afternoon. I will be haunted by the experience for the rest of my days.
Stella has been so good to us over the years. That beast of a burly vehicle has carted us across the country, literally from coast to coast in her almost 200K miles. She has been privy to laughter, secrets, arguments, and many, many viewings of Elf and Tinkerbell. Stella the Suburban has carried our children home from the hospital after their births.
And yet she’s been treated so poorly.
I found decaying slime of some sort in the cup holders, nacho cheese affixed to the seat, an entire bag of Honey Nut Cheerios scattered across the floorboards! Underneath the seats I discovered the remains of chicken nuggets, water bottle lids, juice box straws, and miscellaneous bits and pieces of toys, crafts (I HATE CRAFTS!), and love notes.
There were forks with broken tines, spoons still sporting oatmeal, and knives once used for good left to decompose in solitude surrounded by gray pleather and black acrylic carpeting.
I gained a yellow paper clip and 46¢ but lost my lunch.
What on earth could exhibit such appalling behavior?! What magpies of destruction could have come to kill and destroy our Stella?!
My children. The ones that sprang from my innards. I housed them, tucked in my very own guts and they, they have repaid that kindness with a trashy hatred of their own.
Based on their vehicular living quarters, I’m scared to even image how they left my uterus.
I am so very saddened by this event. I am scarred for life. What has been seen… can never be unseen.
I can no longer accept my children unconditionally. My love for my children, tempered by my defense of Stella, must now be offered with a trash bag and a threat.
This day will live in infamy as I pledge my intention to never… Never, never, never see such a thing again.
If you like this post, feel free to share it (with attribution).
Copyright © StealingFaith.com 2010-2019 | All rights reserved