When Maternal Instincts Are Stretched


“It would be a lot easier to behave if there wasn’t so many other exciting options,” announced Clayton. He was standing ankle deep in a home made jello pool in the in middle of the living room.

His mother, red faced, couldn’t speak. Beverly could feel her hair turning grey.

“In my defence, I was left unsupervised,” added Clayton.

“I was just in the other room,” muttered Beverly.

Clayton proudly displayed his creation. “Still, pretty cool, am I right? Eh?”

“Maternal instincts may not be strong enough,” mumbled Beverly.

“To do what?”

“Keep me from hurting you. Very badly.”

“Look on the bright side. Well behaved people rarely make history,” said Clayton.

“So do parents who murder their children,” said Beverly with a calmness that made Clayton nervous.

“Don’t worry. I’ll clean it up. I promise.”

Beverly’s eyes were vacant and hollow. “Yes you will. But I make no promises about your future.”

“Fair enough,” replied Clayton.

Without another word, Beverly left the room. All things considered, Clayton saw it was a win.

About vanyieck

There is nothing about me that is more interesting than you. I am a man. I have a wife and family. I have a career. I have two dogs. I
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to When Maternal Instincts Are Stretched

  1. Anthony Trudgian says:

    Who knows maybe Clayton will someday discover that standing in jello for 5 hours cures all decreases known to man.:-)!

  2. Pat says:

    Reminds me of my boy. Always had an explanation for what what he was doing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s