Khloe sat defiantly in the back seat of the car. The battle was on. She stared at me.
“I’m not going to ask you again. Put your seat belt on.” We glared at each other through the rear view mirror.
“Mom!” She screams. “I don’t want to.”
“If you don’t put your seatbelt on, if we have an accident, you can die.”
“Mom, God isn’t going to kill babies.”
Immediately stunned into silence, I panicked for a good comeback. Thought of nothing but a lame, “Just put your seatbelt on.”
Not the most wonderful of victories. I had been wounded.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 28.08.2010

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