Contrition [Editing] ✓

25th August, 2004

JEANETTE STARED MURDEROUSLY AT HER wailing daughter. She had the sudden impulse to strangle the tyke. But her husband was in the next room.

The 'terrible two's' were indeed terrible as everyone she knew had told her. She just couldn't get the tiddler to shut up for a while. And the fact that the child had already mastered the art of opening doors, breaking expensive things, rebelling and retorting back, did not make Jeanette's life any easier.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile upon her features. She picked up the bawling brat and put it over her shoulder.

The brat hadn't learned one thing at least. She hadn't learned how to complain.

Jeannette squeezed the child, as hard as she could, but not hard enough to break it's bones. No, she didn't want to be charged with the felony of child abuse. Stupid laws, she thought.

The child continued her squealing with renewed gusto. Her squeals were higher and breathless. Jeanette heard John's worried footsteps near the door.

"Why is she so cranky today?" He asked, a frown creasing his forehead.

She's your child. You should know, thought Jeannette.

Jeannette gave him an exhausted look.

"I don't know. She's not hungry either. She's been so irritable today," she said, now gentle rocking the child.

John pursed his lips and stood at the doorway, watching his wife and daughter for a while. When he saw that here was nothing he could do to help, he went back to his room.

Jeanette scowled after him. Did he really have to interrupt? Fat lot of good he did.

Now she could deal with the brat. She patted her daughter till her cries quietened.

Patience was a virtue she had yet to learn. Hell, it was a virtue she would never learn.

Just a few more years, she thought. Then it'll just be John and me.