My Basil Moment


It’s not always with my daughter when I’m my most crazy. On the first day of my 9 year old’s grounding of all things electronic, I had to venture to Benbrook to pick something up while she was at school. And by Benbrook, I mean the other side of the free world.

Since I had no idea where exactly I was going I had to use my GPS, and special thanks to the complete failure of my cell provider, my GPS kept going out on me. It went out right before I was to exit the toll road so I missed the exit. This resulted in my paying more fines. So thanks for that! I won’t mention any names, but it rhymes with B-Smobile.

I finally get to the general area where Benbrook is only to find out that now there is more of it. The expansion of this sleepy town has exploded. I passed a street called Calf Pasture (no..I really did!) only to find that there is no longer any cows. Or pastures. They’ve all been paved over and there are houses now.

As I’m on this windy road that I was quite sure would take me somewhere to Austin if I wasn’t careful, my GPS had failed again as I went over a hill and the road dead ended. Not only did it dead end, but it ended at a railroad track. That in of itself isn’t a bad thing. However, as I sat there looking at the railroad track I realized it had no desire to get out of my way.  I had no idea how to get to where I needed to go.

I had no paper maps since I let my daughter draw on them when she was 4. I didn’t print anything from Map Quest. I was stuck, and that’s when I had my tantrum.

It looked something like this:

It was not my proudest moment, and I’m sure my phone really wasn’t bothered.  However, I felt better.  While I’m certain my tantrum didn’t make the train move, I’d like to think it did because the train moved right after and I was able to get on my way.  I finally found the house I was looking for.


“You don’t care about my happiness!”

I don’t care about my daughter’s happiness anymore.  Allegedly.  In my defense, however, when your 9 year old gets angry at your phone because it’s stuck due to the space hog Facebook Messenger and consequently throws your phone across the room out of anger, you have no choice but to put your own phone in Time Out. I’ll be honest.  I want to throw my phone sometimes, too.  It happened the other night when the GPS completely rendered my battery useless.  I wanted to throw it across the room and curse out Samsung, Google Maps, and the makers of my battery.  I didn’t though.  This is partly because it was my fault for actually using my GPS in my own hometown.  Well a lesser suburb really.  How was I to know people actually lived that far South of Fort Worth?   Still, I didn’t throw my phone.  I didn’t have a tantrum.  Nor did I panic when I realized I was practically in another county without a reliable phone or its charger.  I didn’t do any of those things because I am an adult. I can hear my phone dinging now in the other room.  It’s clearly unstuck.  However, my daughter is now quiet in her bed.  I still hear her mumbling that I’m the worst mom ever.    Hopefully in her dreams she’ll remember that we also laughed today, but for now I’m okay with being the worst mom ever in the history of moms.  I believe in boundaries and consequences.