The Writing Mamas Daily Blog

Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.

If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.

And for that, you are a goddess.

Friday, October 19, 2007


Les Miserables

“It’s just not fair!”

Alligator-sized tears welling in her eyes as Daughter looks up at Mom.

Ever since birth, seven long years ago, she’s been subjugated to the will of Grownups -- and she has had enough! Enough! Frustration against authority of any kind has finally come to a head.

“It’s just not fair!” she sobs. “Why should adults make all the rules? Why should we listen to them?” Sob, sob, “Who made the rule… that kids… have to listen to adults anyway?”

Mom’s eyes roll heavenward, appealing for patience. With no help forthcoming from that quarter, mind flits to dinner choices for the night.

“It's unfair!” repeats Daughter. “I’m going to…” deep breath, “going to. . . write to the bushman!”

“Do you mean President Bush?” asks Mom, “as in the President of the country?”

“Yes,” says Daughter glad that something at last was getting through Mom’s glazed look. “I’m going to write to him to make a rule… he will say that kids don’t have to listen to anything adults have to say… anymore!” Foot stomp.

“No, no, no,” says Mom, “that is not how it works. Adults give him the job of ‘President’ you see -- we elect him -- so he has to do what we tell him, not the other way around. That’s called Democracy.”

Daughter looks absolutely appalled as Mom crushes last shred of hope ruthlessly.

“What’s going on?” Dad asks. Words tumble out. Daughter explains unjust and unreasonable state of affairs.

“Well, to make a real change you need a Revolution,” says Dad. “A revolution can begin with one person but needs many to make it a success.” Dropping these pearls of wisdom, Dad exits.

“I’m going to Anna’s,” says Daughter, excited, smiling, tears gone, faith valiantly restored at the last minute. She’s off to rally the troops!

“No you’re not,” says Mom. “It’s dinner time right now. It’s not polite.”

Daughter’s mouth opens, tears reappear, ear-splitting wail, probably awaking current occupants of the White House. “See… this is what I mean!”

By Tania Malik


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Very funny!

Out of the mouths of babes! I hope your daughter never loses her wonderful passion. Maija

Can read anything by you. It's vivid, colorful, delicious, thought provoking!

Rock on!
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