But back to my point: this morning Maybelle broke a bowl. I think it was mostly an accident, although I think it was also sort of an experiment. Yes, if you toss it, it breaks. And it was glass, so it broke into lots of little dangerous pieces. This happened while I'd ingested only half a cup of coffee, and after a night in which I'd had a bunch of nightmares about things like:
- We have no yogurt! (We actually have plenty of yogurt, because we went to the store on Saturday.)
- We have no coffee! (We are running a bit low, so that's frightening, but we still have some.)
- You've forgotten something crucial that has to be done at an important meeting! (Always possible.)
And then I went to get the broom, which had disappeared, so what I had to sweep the glass up with was Maybelle's broom--and it's about two feet tall. This is when Bitchmother emerged. Maybelle was sort of fascinated with the sweeping.
"You have to get out of the kitchen," I said, still mostly calmly. "There's glass on the floor, and it could hurt your feet."
She didn't move. I said, "Maybelle, get out. Get out!"
Still no moving. My fangs were emerging, and I started treating her like Gabe, the dog. "Bye bye, Maybelle! Bye bye!" This is what we say to the dog to make him go away. It actually works for him. Not so well with Maybelle.
I then pushed her out of the room, saying, "Bye bye! Go away! Go away! Mama is really irritated!"
This is the point at which her tears started welling up. And I swept up all the glass before I comforted her. Bitchmother. I'm glad I have role models to assure me that this behavior isn't going to cause too much damage.