Glitter and Glue by Kelly Corrigan

Author:Kelly Corrigan [Corrigan, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Biography & Autobiography, Nonfiction, Personal Memoir, Retail
ISBN: 9780345532848
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2014-02-04T05:00:00+00:00

I wake up the next morning feeling energetic, you might even say hale, so I decide to leave the car at home and pick up the kids on foot.

“We’re walking home?” Martin asks in total disbelief, like the house was in Perth.

“Yes.”

He stares at me. “Why didn’t you come in the car?”

“I thought it would be fun to be outside on a nice day. I brought money to buy juices.” I hold out a fiver.

“We’re walking all the way to the market?” We’re not even off school property yet.

“Come on, Martin, it’s fun!” Milly says, aggravating him with her smarmy encouragement.

“No. It. Is. Not!” Martin says, stomping his feet in time to his protest.

“Don’t be a baby!” she shoots back.

“I’ve got this, Milly,” I say, eager to eliminate compounding elements. It’s a minefield, this kid stuff.

“Why for, Keely?” Martin whines.

Thanks to my dumb idea about strolling home in the fresh air and sunshine, I am suddenly face-to-face with a deeply unsympathetic side of my only fan.

“Because it’s good for you.”

“Not for me it isn’t good,” he says to the sidewalk.

I could give him a piggyback, he’s easy to carry—Milly’s too big for anyone except John—but I should be firm, let him hate me for a few more minutes, show him who’s steering this ship. That’s what a real mother would do. That’s what my mother would do.

“I like walking!” Milly says, practically skipping. She likes walking when her brother doesn’t, that’s what she likes. She likes being the Easy One for once. Even though her motive is obvious, I feel a surge of affection for her, along with an irrational hope that, from here on out, she will take my coaching, say thank you, allow me to console her. It’s easy to love kids who make you feel competent. God help the ones who lock themselves in their rooms, who let go first, who make you pine for some sign of validation and then hate yourself for chasing the affections of a child.

Twenty-eight minutes into a walk that took me ten, we still have a hundred yards until we get to 3 Lewiston Street and I’m mad—mad that my good idea isn’t working, mad that Martin has turned against me, madder still that I didn’t understand this was inevitable. Of course he was going to turn on me, and over any little thing. I’m only as good as my last shark throw or grilled PB&J.

Finally, we reach the porch. Martin climbs the steps like a dying Bedouin. “Why did you do that?” he asks.

“All right already, God, Martin! We’re home, okay?” I snap.

“Hey,” Evan calls from the driveway. “Everybody okay?”

“Ev!” Martin runs to Evan. Runs.

“Yeah, it’s just— It was a long walk home,” I explain.

Evan loops an arm around Martin. “Come on, mate, help me clean out my tent.”

“And do roly-poly bugs!” he squeals, invigorated. Martin is back.

“Yeah, we’ll find a few in there.”

“Roly-poly, roly-poly!” Martin chirps, instantly made whole by someone shiny and new. It’s easy to make a kid love you if you give him whatever he wants.

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