I Love You

Dear 16-year-old Vivian,

I'm sure we just got into an argument about something totally stupid today, but I want you to read this for a minute. At your age, you probably think that I'm the meanest bitch on the planet, that I never want you to have a boyfriend, yadda yadda yadda, or even that I hate you. But, none of that is true. In fact, I actually love you to pieces. I would do anything for you. Really, I would.

I want you to read the story below. Maybe it will help you come to this realization or at least hate me a little less.

~~~~~

On June 12, 2010, we went to the store. We went to Walmart, to be exact. Grandma and Gavin came, too. Grandma and Gavin went on their merry way (away from us) and you and I shopped. As we were shopping, we talked about all of the things on the shelves and what we were going to buy. I gave you each item, you examined it, and then you threw it in the back of the cart. 

Then, you indicated that you needed a hug and that the strap on the cart was too tight. I thought that you were just trying to get out of the cart, so I used my distraction techniques to get you to forget about it. Then, you pointed at your stomach and said, "Ouch" in a very sad voice. I unhooked the strap.

You proceeded to lean forward in your seat and lay your head on my chest as we walked.

It. Was. Precious.

You also kept sadly saying "Ouch." I didn't think anything of it and we kept walking. 

Then, you told me that you pooped your pants (I think "Poopoo!" was your exact word) and that you wanted me to pick you up ("Up-Up!").

I obliged and held you with my left arm. And as I picked you up, you continued to tell me that you were in pain ("Ouch, ouch").

Poop then began to seep out of your diaper and onto my arm.

It. Was. Disgusting.

We were experiencing a blow-out. And it was all over me. I continued to soothe your aching tummy (and butt at this point) by carrying you around Walmart. With poop on my arm. Did you read that? I had poop on my arm and I still carried you around because that's what was going to make you feel better.

~~~~~

So the next time you want to curse me or damn me to hell, remember that I LOVE YOU. Who else would be willing to walk around with poop on their arm? I could have easily just put you back in the cart.

Love,

Your Mom