So I know kids always blame their parents for everything that goes wrong in their life. As in: "Remember that time you made meatloaf for dinner? You should've known I hate anything shaped into a loaf. It's singlehandedly the reason I can't sleep without a nightlight as an adult. You ruined everything."
Because of this, I am fully prepared to face the brunt of Allison's blame once she's old enough to point. I mean, frankly, I'm due for it. I used to blame my mother for even the slightest blip in my life. The reason I didn't get a perfect score on that spelling test? Mom must've routinely skipped the word "onomatopoeia" while quizzing me. The reason I almost didn't get my driver's license? Mom didn't make me practice parallel parking enough. The reason my seventh grade school picture turned out horribly? My mom wouldn't buy me that new sweater I wanted.
Even now, we joke about it. If something goes wrong, my mom just says, "I know, it's all my fault." It's not my brother's fault that he took the last cookie, it's my mom's fault for not making enough.
Last night I got my first taste of being on the receiving end. Jerry and I were eating dinner and he got up for a second helping. Allison was next to the table, completely conked out in her glider. She's gotten fairly good at napping through routine noise, so we don't have to whisper like we're at the opera anymore. Then again, I'd be lying if I said we weren't conscious of our decibel level either.
Well, as he was sitting down, Jerry's chair skidded on the floor and the back legs lifted up and crashed down, causing a loud thump. It sounded like the baseball bat I was mentally envisioning slamming into his head.
We both froze as Allison jolted awake.
And then, I watched as she slowly turned her head in my direction and contorted her face into a look of pure frustration. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed and her tiny hands balled into tight fists. I practically heard her screaming, "MOM! UGH! I'M SLEEPING! What does a baby have to do to get a little SHUTEYE around here?"
Jerry just stifled a giggle as she thankfully nodded back to sleep.
As I turned back to my plate and speared some asparagus with my fork, I shrugged and said, "I know, it's all my fault."