The Natural Mommy

Screams pierced the air. I dropped my honey-soaked, reheated biscuit next to the bible which lay open on the dining room table. Throwing back my chair, I sprinted towards the painful cries. As I burst into my toddler’s room, I was temporarily silenced by the view that met my eyes.

And then I screamed.

There was my two-year-old girl, standing on the table which held our 4-inch adopted turtle. She stood straight, her face contorted with tears streaming down.

Hanging from her tiny finger was Turtle.

I have never known adrenaline like that which pumped through my veins during the minutes that followed.

I rushed over, grabbed turtle, and only briefly considered my options before jamming my own finger viciously into his neck. He released his grasp and fell into his watery home. I carried a sobbing Olivia to the bathroom to assess the damage.

Surprisingly, there was little blood. But it is definitely bruised.

Turtle has to go. I know it was her fault for picking him up and playing so close to his mouth. I know it was our fault for leaving Turtle in there after she transferred from crib to bed. But we had nowhere else for him; it was either Olivia’s room or the pet store.

Well, he can’t stay in Olivia’s room any longer.

Filed under: Uncategorized on November 28th, 2007