Court House Babe

Baby Walkers Make Great Bumpers

    As a two year old, people don't expect you to remember much if at all. I must be a magical unicorn because I ended up remembering a lot of my parents fights at the age of two. The yelling matches and doors slamming, they leave quite an imprint in our minds. Normally the fights never got physical between them, thankfully. How ever accidents do happen. 

    One night, the fight got heated. All the yelling and shouting, it was enough to make anyone cry. Hearing the people who are supposed to love each other so much, fight like they wanted to bury each other 6 feet under. To keep from hurting anyone, my dad picked up a dining room chair and smashed it in the kitchen. One chair, two chairs, he was running out of chairs. I being the curious little toddler wandered into the kitchen in my little walker. 

    Neither one of my parents seeing my walk in, they continued to fight. My dad kicked the kitchen table. My mom went to stop the table and saw me standing there. As the table was about to hit me, my father noticed me too. Then, the table hit me, thanks to my handy dandy walker I was alright and just bounced away. My mom ran over and grabbed me, inspecting me, and making sure I was still in one piece. A new fight erupted from that incident, my mom yelling how he almost killed me, my dad shouting he didn't know I was there. 

    Kids don't generally like to hear yelling matches and begin to cry. Me, not so much. All I did was put one ear to my moms chest, and put my hand over my other ear to muffle the shouting. Now, all I could hear besides the faintness of my moms voice was her heart beat. Thump thump, thump, thump. Her heartbeat called my scaredness. My sister ran in and grabbed me form my mom. She took me to her room and sat me down. She gave me my favorite Pocahontas sippy-cup, and we started to play a game.