Our journal assignment for this week was to write about an incident in your life from someone else’s shoes. I had a bit of a struggle with writer’s block for this one, but eventually with some brainstorming help from Mom, I decided to write about my work at MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) yesterday from the perspective of one of the two-year-olds I was babysitting.
Mommy walked with me down the hall of the place she called ‘MOPS’. “Come on, Shiloh. We’re going to go to your classroom.”
My pink cowboy boots thumped on the floor. I squeezed Doggy tightly and put him in my mouth: He always tasted so good.
Mommy opened a door and we walked in to the room with blue walls. A girl and a boy were playing with some toy dishes. Two grownups were standing in the room, one of them holding a little girl. A vague sensation, followed by a flash of remembrance came over me. This was that MOPS thing where Mommy left me! I ran over to Mommy and grabbed her jeans as tightly as I could. As she walked across the room, and put my backpack on a shelf, I followed, still holding onto her leg. “Shiloh, honey,” Mommy murmured, bending down, “you’ve got to let go. Mommy’s gonna go to her meeting, and you’re gonna play and have fun, and then Mommy’s going to come back and get you, okay?”
I whimpered. Mommy started to walk back towards the door. I ran after her. Why does Mommy have to go? Why can’t I come, too? I don’t want to stay here!
“Shiloh, do you want to play with the baby dolls, or the kitchen?” Mommy knelt down. “And look, they have a tea set! Do you want to play with the tea set?” I shook my head and sniffed.
“Or what about the books?” the shorter of the ladies asked. “I know you like books.” She knelt down by me and smiled. “Here, let’s find a book to read.”
Mommy started to stand up. No! I started to cry and bit Doggy harder. She’s going to leave me!
The lady picked me up moved two steps over to the bookshelf, and Mommy slipped out the door. No! No! Mommy!
The lady held me on her lap. “Which book do you want to read? This one? Or maybe this one?” She pulled a book off the shelf with a picture of some people and a bunch of animals on the front of it. “How about this one,” she decided. “Look, Shiloh! There’s a chicken on the front of it and some little chicks!”
The lady opened the book and started reading to me about a baby and some angels. “Look, there’s a chicken and a sheep — a sheep says ‘Baa’ — and a donkey.”
When that book was done, the lady picked up another.
I let out a choky, little breath and looked at the picture in the book that she was pointing two. “F is for frog,” she was saying. “A frog says, ‘Ribbit, ribbit.’”
I pulled Doggy out of my mouth. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.