Spilled Milk

Monday mornings are hard. This morning was a typical Monday. We were running a little bit late and so I packed breakfast to eat in the car. Bagels and cream cheese, fruit and usually I'll bring a sports bottle of water. My 6 year old asked me for chocolate milk. I generally say “no” because I don't want milk in the car, but I was feeling nice so I said “okay.”

We get in the car and we are half way down the road and I hear, “Mom, I spilled.” It was just a little bit of milk. It mostly got the seat belt and a little splash on her shirt. “We need to go back so I can get changed.” That was not a possibility this morning. First of all, it was just a small amount. She was wearing a patterned shirt so there would be no visible stain. If we went home they would both be late for school and I would be late for work. It just was not going to happen. I told her that it would dry and it would be okay. She started freaking out on me. Crying, telling me I am “horrible.” My 8 year old tried to get in on the action. "Just do it, mom!" I don't give in to peer pressure. I said no.

 I get it, I really do. I understand she was uncomfortable and it was not ideal for her – but that is life. If she spilled milk on herself at lunch she would have to wait until it dries. That's just the way it is. Finally she calmed down but when we approached the school she said, “Mom, it's not dry yet." I said, "Sweetie, it's been two minutes. It will dry." She gave me the meanest look ever and said, "It's all your fault." 

We get to the drop off line and my oldest gets out but my 6 year old refused. She sat in the backseat with her arms crossed and said, "I am not getting out until I get a new shirt." Meanwhile, there are 800 cars behind mine and we are literally backing up the whole school lot. "Get out of the car, NOW." "NO!!!" My kids do not fear me enough. So I freaking put on my E-lights and in front of all the other people had to get out of the car, walk over to her side and physically remove her from the vehicle. Thankfully she realized resistance was futile and didn't fight me. I quickly kissed her quickly and I said, "I love you. Go inside and have a good day." She lifted her head and gave me a look of betrayal. I walked back to the car amongst the dirty looks of the other parents waiting impatiently behind me. I get in and as I am driving away, I am watching her walk into school. She looked so cute today in her jeans and sunflower sweater with a big flower in her hair. As she is walking in she is quietly weeping and wiping her tears with the wrist of her sweatshirt.

In that moment I felt like a complete and total a**hole. How is that even possible? She was being mean and unreasonable and I don't think I had any reason to feel bad. But somehow I still did. It's not fair. Score for the kids:1. Mom: 0.