I Yelled at My Kids

I really hadn't meant to yell. But the aftermath of it lay before me. My son was a wimpering mess on the floor and my daughter sat statue-like on the chair in front of me. As I sat there considering my next move, it occurred to me that I needed to do something quickly. The deafening sound of silence reminded all of us that an ugly moment had just occurred. And a voice inside me continued to insist that my kids were at fault. "OK, you two, I'm sorry I yelled like that, what a dumb thing to do!" As I moved toward my son, it became evident that he wanted no part of me. "Get away from me!" he shouted. I thought better of telling him not to yell at me, so I did the only thing I could think of doing. "Crabby Daddy is back," I proclaimed as I transformed my hands into pincers and crawled in crab-like fashion towards them. "I love to yell at children, then eat them!" My son continued to yell at me to go away, but now he was laughing and crying simultaneously. My mission to undo the damage my yelling had caused was underway. I