“You pushed me! I’m telling my Mom that you pushed me!”
She stared at this boy, this small person who was on her front step, down, legs tangled in the screen door. She had not pushed him. She knew that. But it was only the two of them and she quickly thought ahead at what her neighbor, this young boy’s mother, would say about it.
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! I’m telling my Mom!”
That was enough. She didn’t push him, but she wasn’t sorry to see him tangled up in the door. He hadn’t been a good playmate to Tyler that morning and he certainly deserved a scolding for flipping over the Chutes and Ladders board and for throwing that Batman at Tyler. Telling someone else’s kid a thing or two was something she knew she shouldn’t do, but Amy knew she had to do something. Especially now that he was making up a story.
“Who’s anyone going to believe?” she asked herself. “Me or a little boy?”
Of course anyone who knew Timmy also knew he was fully capable of making up a story that put him in a good light and someone else in trouble. She didn’t know what Timmy had against her, except that, before he fell out the door, she had had enough of him and his actions in her house and, as she always did when one boy or one girl or another had worn out the invitation, she announced, “Well, that’s enough for one day. Let’s pack up your things and send you home.” It usually worked well because it was swift and direct and no kid ever picked up on the fact that Amy was really at her limit, she thought. Any other mom in the room, if there was one, would surely know that this phrase was Amy’s way of saying that was the last straw.
How could a four-year-old boy manipulate her this way? Amy thought quickly. “I didn’t do a thing wrong. I know that, but I’d better do something now or Kristin’s going to be at my door with a fake-crying kid in a few minutes, asking me just what went on here.”
“Timmy,” she said as she helped him up and looked at him squarely and seriously in the eyes. “You know I didn’t push you. I wasn’t even near the door when you took a tumble. If you tell your mother you fell, you’d better think very hard about how you tell her you fell.” Amy wasn’t sure she had convinced him, so she quickly added, “Because if you tell her I pushed you, there will be no more visits over here to play with Tyler’s Batman figures.”
Timmy stood and looked at her. He shoved his hands into his bunched-up pockets and his hands looked like fists under the fabric. He looked evil to her. “Well…” he said. Amy thought she had him and she waited for him to say something more. Then as quickly as the falling had unfolded, Timmy turned and ran out the door and over to his house.
“Mommy! Mommy!” It was Tyler calling her from inside. “I can’t find my Batman Beyond! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
Thank you for reading!
Copyright © 2018 by Book Club Mom
All rights reserved. All material on this blog is the property of Book Club Mom. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.