The girl who just can't play it cool

I beat my older brother in a race down our street. I know, as an adult, it’s a silly thing to care about. And I shouldn’t take it seriously. But I really couldn’t believe I won. 7 year old me would be ecstatic. She always thought maybe she would outrun her older brother one day, but years and years of losing our impromptu races- to the car, to our front door, to the park- always taught her that it was highly unlikely and probably even physically impossible. And as I got older, it somehow got pushed down on my list of priorities.

Until we raced again. And suddenly I cared. Suddenly I cared a lot.

Big brother and I were waiting for our Dad by the car. We were supposed to all run errands together. But I was tired of waiting and suddenly a race seemed like a fun idea. It was such a beautiful day out. Really hot and sunny. He was open to the idea. I love that my brother doesn’t think he’s too cool or too old or too busy to indulge my whims.

After a quick debate, we decided we would race to the white car parked at the end of the street.

“On the count of three ok? Go on go…” Clarity is key. “One, two, three, GO.”

I was flying. It was only a short distance, and we both started laughing as we sprinted towards the finish line, realizing the outcome. As a winner, I was jubilant and extremely ungracious. I ran back down the road toward our house, past a group of little kids on bikes, jumping around, yelling to the whole street about my small victory.

My brother was still laughing. I slowed down to a walk. My feet suddenly felt hot on the pavement and I wished I had shoes.

I had just come home and dropped my bag. As usual, I asked her how her day was. She told me she and my Dad had just gotten into an argument. You could tell it was on the top of her mind. She tells me a little about it.

But when she finishes I can tell there’s something else. She doesn’t want to say it. But she feels compelled to. She looked so guilty and just gut wrenched. She hesitates. Something was definitely on her mind. And then quietly, regret, and something like disbelief, fills her voice:

“And then you know what I did….?” I could see her force herself to look at me straight in the eye. “I was so mad at him…  I kicked the cat!”

“Mom, no!”

“Yeah!”

I’m not sure what I was expecting to hear, but that definitely wasn’t it.  She sounded so sad and so upset at herself. But also surprised, like she couldn’t even believe it.  It was as if she was trying to figure out how this could have happened as she was telling me – trying to rid herself of some of the guilt and shame. I wasn’t helping with my next question:

“Which cat was it? The younger one?”

I was hoping it was the younger one, Fuzz. She’s at least fat and feisty. But even as I asked, I knew what her reply would be. The feeling of guilt radiating from my Mom almost tangible. I felt myself bracing for her next words.

“No”, Mom said sadly, regretfully. “It was Mano!”

Oh no. Poor Mano. Of course it had to be Mano. Murphy’s Law strikes again. She’s our older cat and has gotten kind of skinny lately. She’s also always been extremely shy and flinches every time you try to pet her. We got her from the Humane Society. I don’t know if I felt worse for my Mom or the cat.

I must have really caught my Mom at a vulnerable moment when I arrived home. It was weird seeing her feel so guilty about something that was relatively small, like a little kid. I realize now that it was also a little satisfying to hear my Mom admit that she lost her cool. She’s usually so composed and so calm. I’m the loose cannon, as I’m constantly reminded. So just imagining her kicking poor defenceless Mano who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time…. it was a bit funny. And as bad as it sounds, it felt good to see my Mom in a bad place, feeling ashamed and guilty, like she wasn’t so above it all then. Kicking our cat didn’t solve anything but it did make her feel better. And now I know she knows what it’s like to do something that makes you feel a little bit better, even if you know it’s not the right thing to do. Because it’s not the right thing to do. I should really thank Mano for helping me understand my Mom better.