I paid her a dollar

  I paid my daughter, Mary, a dollar today, because I yelled.  I really didn’t see the problem coming.  I had been in a great mood.  But the day got long and I was worn out.  But dinner time, as I was telling all the older kids to get dinner on the table, I was trying to get the baby’s antibiotic down his throat.  But he kept spitting it out, multiple ounces at a time!  I was so frustrated.  Bright, pink, amoxicillin, dripping all down his shirt and in between his multiple chins.
    Right in the middle of his gagging and acting like I was torturing him, Mary, age 12, stands in the kitchen with a salad in her hands and says, “What do you want me to do with this bowl?”  I shouted, “Get it onto the table, DUH!  What do you think I want you to do with it??”  As soon as the words came flying out of my mouth, I regretted it.  She whisked off with the salad, and I bolted upstairs to change the baby’s clothes.
   When I came downstairs, I handed her a dollar.  “I shouldn’t have yelled, Mary.  I’m really sorry.”  It is my policy that, if anyone in the family yells, we have to pay the other person a dollar.  Kids can’t yell.  But neither can parents.
    “I’m sorry too, Mom.  It was such a ridiculous thing to ask you, right in the middle of your dealing with Sebastian.”
    I can’t believe I said, “Duh.”  That’s really lame!