Sorry

A parent who has never apologized to his children is a monster. If he's always apologizing, his children are monsters. ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook, 1966

It was the moment I dreaded most.

After a bout of shouting and yelling from two of my monkeys, Angel’s sobs followed.

Getting out of my comfy chair, I turned to the commotion and demanded to know what happened.

“Mervin hit me!”

“She hit me first!”

I stormed out of my bedroom, grabbed the cane and returned with a killer look on my face.

With a roar that shook the whole room, I exploded, “Haven’t I told you before that no fighting is allowed in this household?”

Then, whack whack, each of them got a stroke from me, and were made to stand facing a wall at a corner to repent.

“Make sure you stand there for an hour!” I was well-pissed off.

But after about fifteen minutes, I was racking my brain as to how to relief them from their punishment without going back on my words.

I decided to do a little beating round the bush and proposed premature parole if they truly regret what they did and promised not to do the same again.

Finding out the whole story from both of them was agonizing. Repeating it here was equally excruciating. So I’ll save my trouble and your torture.

Anyway, after a lengthy lecture and counsel, we approached the last stage whereby I always asked them what they think they had done wrongly and what they think they should have done instead.

Mervin demonstrated his budding maturity by answering, “I should have told her that she was hurting me and asked her to stop instead of hitting her back.”

Politically correct answer. Good effort. Applause.

When it’s Angel’s turn, she stared at me with her tear-rimmed doleful eyes and replied, “I should have hit him then say sorry.”

The poker face I had tried to maintain crumpled, as did Mervin.

More lectures followed, ending with a handshake and apologies made to each other.

“I’m sorry too,” the words sounded strangled in my throat.

“For what?” both of them asked in bewilderment at the same time.

“I’m sorry for caning both of you.” I could feel a dull ache pulsating from my heart.

“No need to say sorry!”

“It’s ok, Mummy, we know you did that for our own good.”

Goodness. My kids are so readily forgiving towards me.

Guilt weighed heavily against my heart.