Torture

An open letter to my neighbors.

To Whom It May Concern,

I find it necessary to explain that I was not, actually, murdering my oldest child tonight. If you live within a three mile radius of my house, you may feel that you were listening in on his brutal death. In reality, he was having a small amount of hydrogen peroxide applied to a dirty skinned knee. Terrified that it was going to send him into an early grave, he fought me with all of his might. Had he wrestled with half as much passion, he would not have ended his season with an official 0-9 record, I assure you. It took several minutes for me to get him into a position where his limbs were not flailing about and assaulting me. During the duration of these minutes, he was shrieking loud enough to power a small city--should that noise have been harnessed and converted into usable energy.

The whimpering you may have heard was not a wounded puppy but, in actuality, my younger son sobbing in the corner of the bathroom. He was begging me to stop. He was pleading with me to allow him to rescue his brother. On more than one occasion, I had to plant my entire body over the top of the older, look into the eyes of the younger and explain that mommy was only trying to help. She was not, actually, inflicting pain upon his brother for the sheer fun of it.

He stood, clutching his beloved blanket, tears flowing down his cheeks, repeating, "I sorry brother. I help you. Stop mommy."

His brother shrieked and sobbed and screamed hysterically. But he did, in fact, survive the ordeal. There was no death by hydrogen peroxide. There's really no need to call the authorities.

Together, Garrett and I explained to Matthew, when all was said and done, that I love them both very much and would never try to hurt them. They are both settled into bed now and neither seems to be sleeping with one eye open, afraid of the psychotic beast who refers to herself as mommy.

Garrett's knee is clean and sporting a band-aid.

Call off the department of child and family services. I assure you it wasn't nearly as bad as it sounded.

Signed,
The Hydrogen Peroxide Torturer