It’s a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful.
Once I was out in the park, letting my feet have some air, a lady came to me. “What is the matter with you?! You can’t just sit here without shoes and let everybody see your ugly feet?” She looked like a tomato, fat and red. Just like a red ball! -Strange chose of cloths, I thought. Everything was red, her jacket, pants, shoes, socks, her hair and now her skin. It made her look really like a tomato. A smile came to my lips and the lady was nearly exploding! The smile disappeared and I grabbed my shoes and left her alone with the smell of my stinky feet.
Near the lake I found a good place to sit. Before I sat down I looked around after the big tomato-lady. She was gone. Maybe she already had exploded? Instead it was two other ladies standing behind a tree with each their child. The ladies where talking about them, their children. How beautiful, nice and patient they were. I got curious and hidden behind the tree to look at them. I thrilled. How ugly can you be? Compared to the tomato-lady, she was pretty (something she wasn’t)! And patient? No, they weren’t. Dragging their mother in her arm, screaming loud and clear and still, they were patient? Why did they lie? Both of them knew that they did and still they kept it going. Their children were so kind to everybody, always asking if anyone missed something and was always there when help was needed. I could see that. When their mom didn’t listen to them, they started to attack each other. First a nice little push, then a harder revenge-push and it ended with scratching so hard that some blood came. Finally their mother gave them some attention and the lying mothers had to leave.
I’d watched everything behind the tree and now I turned my back and looked over the lake. It was silent in the park and I was near sleeping. The lake had some few waves floating which made sleepy noises. A voice filled the park and it sad; “Look mom! It’s floating away from me!” A small boat floated on the lake and made bigger waves until it stopped silent in middle. It was a little boy who owned the voice. He couldn’t be over 12 years old; his face was too soft and silky. And his voice was high and tiny. He had a sad look on his face and I felt his sorrow. My feet wanted to run into the lake, pick up the boat and give it to him so he could play with it again. But his mother came, and I staid. “What the heck are you screaming for?! Why can’t you let your mother have some rest, for once? You’re getting spoilt! Go and pick it up then! How hard can it be?” My eyes were getting bigger while I watched. This was something else then what I saw few minutes ago. This mother didn’t care about him at one second! I bet that she never had sad something nice to him, once! Scared the little boy took his cloths of and put his feet into the lake. They came fast up again. “It’s cold as ice, mom!” He yelled to behind himself. The mother turned around, slowly. There was no big deal to tell that she was irritated. “Yes, and what do you think I can do with that?” She sent him a look of stone and the boy put his feet into the lake again. His eyes opened quickly and I felt with him. I wanted to do something, but with his mother near me I didn’t dear. He laid down in the water and started to swim fast. When he reached the boat he tried to push it back to his mother. It moved nice and slow and when he finally came to the grass, his skin was white as snow and his lips had changed color to purple! The boy started to play with the boat while he shook extremely. And still his mother didn’t care.
A sight leaved my chest. Isn’t it something in the middle? Something that isn’t too cruel or too nice? Can’t people just open their eyes and face the truth? It makes my heart break.
I took my shoes on and left the park.
It’s a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful. I think of them as blind. But everything has two sides. What about those parents who don’t care about their children? What are they?