Parenthood

A recent happening at our house.

Scene: Mom in the kitchen, daughters #5 (age 13) and #6 (age 11) are in a more-or-less adjacent room (next level up in a split level home). Suddenly, CRASH! (A loud noise) followed by.... silence.

Mom knows she need not personally investigate because:

a) there were no calls for help (and whatever fell can't have rendered both girls unconscious)

b) she is making dinner and doesn't want to leave her chopping board and go up those stairs with her bad knees, one of which clicks, while the other squishes.

c) we are well past the phase when 2-year-olds try to climb dressers and tip them over onto themselves (everyone survived that incident, except for a statue of Mary, which has since been re-glued onto its base and has only a chip in her forehead. The toddler was completely unscathed and unscratched. Thanks, Blessed Mother!)

Mom: What was that? What fell?

Daughter #5: Nothing is broken! That's all you need to know.

You know you've mellowed as a parent when you are willing to leave it at that. Which I was.
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