Slice of Life: Moments That Bubble and Pop

It’s Tuesday and time for Slice of Life. I wanted to write a small moment personal narrative; what my students are currently working on. Tomorrow they flash draft.

I dove into my notebook to find something story worthy, but the story walked into the room and announced itself. After writing tonight, the anger of the moment is largely diffused. Emotions didn’t escalate as the same situation might have a few years ago. Dare I celebrate that fact? What follows is a teeny slice of parenting life. A story that irritates momentarily, and dissipates quickly.


I’m tired. It’s 8:31, but feels like 11:31. Monday  evening and I just lost it with my daughter.

I’m sitting in the living room, dressed in my pjs and sweat shirt,  checking emails.

She walks up to me and asks, “Can we go to Trader Joe’s?”

“Wait I tell her,” not really listening, “I need to respond to this.”

She walks away.

Time passes.

The door creaks open and she walks out of her bedroom. She stands over me,  the keys to the car in her hand. It dawns on me she wants to drive, and for some reason, tonight I just don’t want her to. It’s not that driving with her is that bad. She’s really good, for a 16-year old. I just don’t want her to drive now and tell her so.

Her reaction is immediate: the look on her face, the tone of her voice.  I can see her digging in her heels.

Most of the time, I don’t fight this kind of a battle. It just doesn’t come close to registering on my things-to- die-on-the-sword-for gage. But tonight, I’m just not in the mood to give in.  “No, I’ll drive,” I say.

“Fine,” she said.  “I’ll starve,”and walks to her room.

Mind you, our refrigerator is full. But not with the particular dietary needs she requires at this time.

I’m irritated but that passes as I sink into writing.  Interesting to note, the door to her room doesn’t slam shut. Just a quiet and normal sounding shut. Clearly her request wasn’t worth the fight.

I’m relieved. A small moment that might have blown up in the past, just slipped away.

For those of you who have or have had a teenage girl, I hope you can identify with this silly clash of wills. I hope I’m not alone. Sometimes these moments just walk in unannounced, rising up from who knows where and then slink off.

The beasts go to bed. Sleep should provide transformation by morning.




Thank you Two Writing Teachers for this space to be and become writers. A place to share moments, the good and the not so good.

Thank you Tara, Stacey, Beth, Anna, Dana and Betsy for your wonderful blog. Find more posts and add your own here.