Not the Mom

by Peggy McFarland

Buddy cried when she placed him in the shopping cart. The inch of exposed skin between the top of his peaking diaper and the waistband of his winter coat rubbed against those steel bars. With a smirk tickling the corners of his mouth, a grandfatherly man pointed out her mistake. "I'm the aunt, not the mom," she rationalized as her cheeks burned red, though not from the cold. She lifted Buddy and felt his chubby arms wrap around her neck, his baby powder scented head snuggled against her shoulder. A warm toddler hug forgave the auntie goof.


Peggy McFarland, author of Letting Go, is an aunt and mother too. She bartends for a living until this writing thing catches on.


Anonymous said...

I was apprehensive when I began to read this, as I didn't want to read about any sort of abuse. In just those first two and a half sentences you had my emotions going.

Beautiful ending to a well written "six sentences."

peggy said...

Wow. No matter how many times I reread this piece, and knowing where I was heading, I never saw the first two sentences as a separate entity. Sorry for the apprehension. Thank you for the compliment.

Anonymous said...

Well written six.

Paul D. Brazill said...

Very nice stuff. I'd never read this before!