‘Saving Mr. Whiskers’
Cara was playing so rough with Mr. Whiskers that I was forced to take him from her real fast and real hard before she pulled off another of his buttons.
Cara held on tight and some of Mr. Whiskers’ stuffing popped out. “Mommy!” whined Cara.
Our mom came running. “What’s the matter, Cara?” Mom asked.
“Alicia snatched Mr. Whiskers out of my hand!” Cara said. A bit too loudly, if you ask me.
And before Cara could say another word, Mom snatched Mr. Whiskers out of my hand and gave him back to my little sister. Then she turned to me and said, “Say you’re sorry, Alicia.”
“Me?” I asked. “But, I didn’t....”
“Say you’re sorry,” Mom repeated, her arms folded across her chest.
“But all I did....” I sputtered.
“When we hurt one another, we say we’re sorry in this family,” said Mom. “And if we don’t say we’re sorry, then we lose privileges. For instance, maybe you won’t be able to go to Maxie’s party next Saturday.”
“But I’ve been waiting for that party for weeks,” I said.
“Last chance,” she said.
“OK,” I said. “I am sorry -- sorry that Mr. Whiskers’ stuffing is all popping out.”
My mom started to frown real tight and her face began to crinkle up in the space between her two eyebrows.
“I’m sorry -- that Mr. Whiskers now has oatmeal stains on his favorite vest, and three of his whiskers are bent.”
“Alicia!” said my mother, her voice rising.
“I am sorry that some little person took Mr. Whiskers from his favorite, safest place on my dresser. I am sorry someone started to play with him, which I never ever do anymore. I am sorry that I love him so, ‘cause if I didn’t it probably wouldn’t matter so much that his fur is uncombed and his paws are dirty,” I said.
No one spoke.
A big fat tear rolled down Cara’s face. “I’m sorry,” my little sister said as she handed my stuffed animal back to me. “From now on I’ll never ever let anyone hurt Mr. Whiskers.”
“I’m sorry too,” I said, as I touched her shoulder. And then I hugged her in a big Mr. Whiskers hug.
“I’m sorry too that this happened,” said our mom. “Now let’s get a needle and thread and fix him up. We can give him a bath too. If we all do it together, we can probably make Mr. Whiskers like new.”
And then we all smiled. Even Mr. Whiskers.
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