When Jennifer discovers Alex crying in the living room of her mother-in-law Margaret, her heart races.
Jennifer is aware that there is a superior method for instilling values, despite Margaret’s claim that she will teach Alex gratitude by donating his beloved toys.
Not entirely set in stone to come to her meaningful conclusion, Jennifer plans an example Margaret will always remember. How will she confront her cocky MIL?
“We should get this over with,” I mumbled to myself, looking at the clock on the wall. Alex would be picked up from Margaret’s house shortly.
I generally felt a piece restless before these visits on the grounds that Margaret had an approach to causing me to feel like I was doing everything wrong when it came to raising Alex.
She would say, “Jennifer, you spoil him with too many toys.
” He doesn’t require everything. You are squandering money.
As I gathered my belongings, I could hear her words echoing in my mind. Despite the fact that I knew she meant well, it was hard not to take it personally.
I tried to shake off my nerves by taking a deep breath.
I would attempt to ignore her comments today.
I headed for the door after grabbing my keys from the kitchen counter. The morning sun gushed through the windows, projecting a warm sparkle over the family room.
I hoped that would be a good sign because the day was so beautiful. I couldn’t help but think of Alex as I made my way to the car.
He was such a happy, bright child.
He had a lot of toys and a lot of love, too.
That was always my guarantee. Although I wasn’t perfect, I was doing my best, so that had to count.
I silently made a promise to myself before I started the car. No matter what Margaret said, I would keep my cool and remain composed.
That was Alex’s right.
He deserved a mother who was capable of handling anything and still managed to smile at the end of the day.
When I pulled out of the driveway, I said, “Here we go. ” We can only hope for a smooth day.
” But I knew that hope had vanished as soon as I entered Margaret’s house.
The hallway was filled with the sound of Alex’s crying. Fear gripping me, I rushed toward the living room as my heart sank.
My four-year-old son was crying on the floor of the living room, and there he was.
“Alex, sweetie, what’s wrong?
” As I knelt next to him, I gently wiped his tears away with my hands. It broke my heart to see him so distraught.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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