A single black sock

Author Fay Weldon spoke the truth when she said “If you put a single black sock in with the white wash, everything comes out grey”.

Last Monday I woke up and the image of Beau sitting on my bed the day before, crying into his knees that he wanted to go home and not be here, jumped into my mind as I got out of bed.

The twang of feeling awful about reprimanding him stuck in my stomach as I got ready for work. The reasons for this outburst are trivial in the light of day but I kept chewing on the image walking to work.

I remembered the quotation of Fay’s I used to have on my fridge and started to recall the good things from the weekend with the mini men. There were a plethora of great moments, a stack of cuddles and giggles and a few moments of stern parent face.

I apologised to Beau an hour or so later after the outburst and pulled him into me for a hug. I didn’t try and explain myself, I just told him I was sorry for being cranky at him. He responded as I thought he would, and we spent the remainder of the day swimming with Chicky, laughing and colouring in.

Not living with the boys, I have become aware of the need for quicker than usual perspective on events and moments with them, which also filter into other facets of my life. Throw a single bad moment in and it shouldn’t cloud the whole weekend.

I guess if we take a moment to examine the events in our lives and our community — I won’t even name the most recent furore in branding changes — but think of the great moments in early March we’ve had in previous years, we can’t say that one mismanaged event will ruin everything.

And like two little men sitting on their Dad’s bed, upset at the morning’s arguments, the joy of swimming, cuddles and raspberry scones afterwards make the best of a sneaky black sock in the wrong pile.