Don’t Make A Mommy Angry…

Posted by in Diary | 2 comments

imagesI use to think that my mother was a bit psychotic when it came to defending her children. There were times when we were afraid to tell her that someone did something to us because we knew when our mother got started there was no stopping her–she was the female Hulk. But, now that I’m a mother I have a greater respect for my mother’s love. To this day I remember when I realized just how much she loved me.

It was the summer before entering high school. I was riding my bike with my best friend, while my little brother and his buddies played with their trucks and raced up and down the street. Here is something you need to know…my brother is four years younger than me, and though he was short for his age, his size had very little effect on how much he ran his mouth. For a 9 year old he was a bit of an asshole, but I loved him. He was my annoying shadow, and we both understood that through thick or thin we were each others responsibility. My mother would accept nothing less than the utmost loyalty between us.

On this particular evening, we were all enjoying our last days of summer, when we had the pleasure of crossing paths with Myra. Ugh! Myra. She was two years old than me, and she just knew she was cute. Do not download without permission.You know the girls that proudly broadcast they lost their virginity at the age of five? Myra couldn’t stand me, but if there was anyone she hated more it was my sharp tongued brother. Suspiciously, she was walking towards us with a group of older girls, I watched her closely to make sure no one touched my brother. Of course this bothered her so she told her friends she was going to whoop my ass. She demanded that I stand there while she went across the street to the store. Umm, who in their right mind is going to wait patiently for someone to “whoop their ass”?

I went back around the corner closer to my house. My father was studying in the kitchen, he never went too far when we were outside. I knew I should have told him what happened, but then he would have made me come in the house. 20 minutes later, here comes Myra. Immediately, I felt that “fight” or “flight” sensation. I always had a good sense of situations and I could tell I wouldn’t be able to “talk my way” out of this one. She swung on me, and the next thing you know we were fighting on the concrete. Out the corner of my eye, I saw a 4 ft black blur running down the street screaming, “DAAAAAAADDDDDDDY!!!!!”

Though I come from a family of fighters, I hate it. There is something so barbaric about physical altercations, so I try my best to avoid them. But, when you’re backed in a corner you have to come out swinging–and, that is what I did. After what seemed like hours, I felt some one grab me by my waist and I kicked and swung with everything in me. Then, I was hoisted in the air. My father had me in a bear hug. I was so hyped off adrenaline and raw emotions, the sight of him brought me to tears.

Do not download without permissionLater that night, I sat in the tub; I was on pins and needles waiting for my mother to get home from work. I think my father and I shared the same fear of my mother finding out, but there was no way to avoid it.

It felt like only seconds before my mother came barreling into the bathroom, checking me for cuts and bruises. She looked manic, crazed in the eyes. She told me to get my clothes on and before I knew it, she had called the police. Here stood this 6ft 3 inch white police officer in our small kitchen. He looked just as confused as I did.

Officer: Ma’am, I don’t think that you can file charges for this altercation.

Mommy: I want this incident noted in your records in case we are ever forced to take extreme measures.

Me & Daddy: <extreme measures?!?!?!>

Officer: Hmm, I don’t think it will come to that, Ma’am. But, I will let the other parent know that this incident is being noted.

Mother: I’m going with you.

Do not download without permissionIt’s 10pm on a Friday night in the middle of the summer; me, my brother, father and mother are riding in a police car to Myra’s house. We all get out of the car and the officer knocks on Myra’s door where her mother appears confused and annoyed. The officer went on to explain that there will be a public record of the incident that took place.  Myra’s mother was appalled.

Her: PUBLIC RECORD?! FOR WHAT?! IT WAS JUST A FIGHT!

Mommy: It was “just a fight” with MY daughter! And, I want it on record in case your daughter makes the mistake of putting her hands on my child again.

Her: I don’t know how they do things in the county, but in the city kids fight all the time!

(This was obviously supposed to be an insult. Just because my family carried themselves like we had sense, people in the neighborhood assumed we were from some far distant land–like the county.)

Mommy: <Taking two steps towards the open screen door. The street fell silent. My mother was a hair distance away from Myra’s mother’s face. With a hiss she whispered.> Read my lips, I’m willing to go to jail for mine, are you?

With that, the officer and my father grabbed my mother leaving Myra’s mother stunned on her front step. My father told the officer we could walk home. The people in the neighborhood stared at us the whole way down. I wanted to crawl under a rock, but at the same time I felt my mother’s primal love and protection of her children. And one day, I hope to leave my son with that same level of embarrassment.

My diary entry is this, “Nothing matches a mother’s love, nothing!”

2 Comments

  1. I feel you. My children already know that their mother do not play when it comes to them. In fact, they will hide information from me to keep me from loosing my mind on a teacher or anyone else. I will never forget when I was pregnant with my daughter. I was on my way to work and my husband called and said,”If you are driving I need you to pull over because I have to tell you about an incident with our son on the bus.” My husband knows his wife. The tires came to a screeching halt. Well, that was all he had to say before I started going NUTS.” A little boy punched my son in the nose and made it bleed. ” WHAT!!! Then, he proceeded to tell me that our son cried. Oh heeeellllll no!!! I lost my mind and he had to remind me that I was pregnant. Pregnant and all Yes I sure did go to the little boys house to give his mother the BUSINESS. She was so nice and upset with her son that I couldn’t unleash the beast on her. Boy was she lucky. So yes when you are a mother you will fight an army if you have to for your children.

    • Donna as much as you love your children, it is clear you are not to be messed with. It’s real in the field! Thank you for always sharing and being so supportive.

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