I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
December 25, 2008
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We got the call a few hours before Hubs and I had planned to make one last run to Toys R Us, while my stepdaughters babysat our little ones.
“Could you watch Ella for a few hours?” my friend asked. “I have a party to go to at 4:30. I’d like to bring her over at four and I’ll be home no later than six.”
Hubs and I discussed it with the girls and they agreed that Ella could come over while they babysat. We left to run our Christmas errands before she arrived.
While we were gone, I had the strangest feeling that Ella was sick. Again. I couldn’t explain why, but I felt a growing sense of unease the whole time I was gone. And when I returned home, I discovered that…
I was right.
Ella’s cheeks were flushed a deep pink and she was coughing a tight, congested cough that sounded more like a seal bark.
“Ella, don’t forget to cover your mouth when you cough,” I reminded her gently.
“How?” she asked.
Greeeaaaat.
“Ella, it sounds like you have a bad cough,” I said.
“I’ve been sick since yesterday,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I coughed all day long.”
And then your mother brought you over here, I thought to myself grimly. Three days before Christmas.
To make matters worse, 6:00 came and went. I tried my best to keep Bruiser away from Ella. I began surreptitiously squirting hand sanitizer into Punky’s palm every time I got a moment. And I wondered where on earth Ella’s mother had gone.
6:30 passed. And 7:00. I didn’t have Ella’s mother’s cell phone number, nor did I have any idea of where she was.
Finally at 7:15, the doorbell rang.
“I am so sorry,” Ella’s mother said. “It turned out the party started at six. And I had my phone off, so there was nothing I could do about it.”
You could have left, I thought to myself. You could have skipped it, since you have a sick child and all. You could have turned your phone on and called me. You could have left me your number, so that I could get in touch with you.
Instead I said, “Ella has a really bad cough. I’m worried about her.”
“A bad cough?” Ella’s mom repeated. “Well, I’m sorry I was so late.”
“Merry Christmas,” I said, as Ella walked through my front door. “Bye Ella,” I called.
As they turned and walked down the stairs, I have to admit, I shut the door a little harder than I had to. I was livid. Three days before Christmas. And it wasn’t some sort of family emergency. It was a freaking church meeting.
I comforted myself by thinking that at least I had successfully kept Bruiser away from Ella, despite his protestations. At that moment, Bruiser walked around the corner, drinking deeply from what had been Ella’s sippy cup.
I thought of Maya Angelou’s words, which I’ve always remembered, ever since hearing them years and years ago. “When people show you who they are, believe them.”
It took me three tries, but I think I’ve finally figured that out.
This post originally appeared on Parents.com.
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