The Tale of the Hostage Note


It has dawned on me that I have Stockholm Syndrome. I can’t believe it has taken me this long to realize that I am being held hostage by two tiny terrorists. And instead of looking for escape, I cover them with hugs and kisses. No more. I have realized, I can walk, I would be wildly unpopular, but I can walk. So instead of constantly meeting their endless lists of demands, I have come up with a list of my own.

The (sad) reality is, you, my dear captors, can treat me however you want and I will still meet your demands. I will get up at night every time you call. I will serve you endless meals and get you countless cups of juice or milk. I will read you books, wipe your tush, and carry you all over God’s green earth. And all I really ask for in return is the privilege to keep on doing so – to always be your Mom. Maybe the occasional hug and kiss. And how about some artwork for the fridge. And maybe you could have an extraordinary talent that I could brag to my friends about. And maybe once a month I could have a hot bath…..


One response »

  1. This is fantastic! Please post this to your bathroom door and NEVER take it down. Not even when they are teenagers or married. Beautiful.

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