The coffee spilled down the car’s jet black exterior. The small girl had left the coffee cup resting on top of the car’s trunk. I waited from inside the coffee shop for the wrath from hell.
Rather than scold the girl, a smile spread across the mother’s fa e as she showed the girl the coffee colored drops rolling down the back of the car. The father emerged from other side of the now coffee splattered car. Grabbing the cup with a smile, the man walked towards the trash can to dispose of the empty cup.
The wrath should incur soon, I thought, remembering how my own mother would have reacted to the silly incident. Why was I expecting anger? Was I looking forward to the parents’ reactions? Would seeing another mother scold her child over a light-hearted mistake comfort my own heart? Should pain be comforting?
Now, the girl gets her pastry from the counter–a large chocolate croissant with powdered sugar! The family even sits down together and enjoys the time and food before the bustle of the day begins. Where I expected anger, I instead encountered joy. The silly moment had passed and turned into a family breakfast.
I cleared my place and trudged back to the car focusing on my own mother, her anger, and the child inside me who yearns for a warm hug.
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