Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The Blame Game

This morning I dropped a bottle of perfume into the bathroom sink and as it smashed I instantly whirled around to see who I could blame.

Sadly there was no one in sight. Actually there wasn't even anyone on the same floor as me so I had to admit defeat and suck up the fact that it was all my fault.

I hate being at fault.

I think I must have got it from my father. I distinctly remember watching him in the garden as he set to work on some or other mad contraption with his hammer. When he whacked his thumb instead of the nail he shouted out in pain, and then whirled around to see who he could blame.

Or the thousandth time he got lost on route to a family day out destination and realised that he had no idea where in the world he was, and then whirled around to see who he could blame.

See a pattern here?

When I get all shouty with the kids it's because they've been misbehaving all day - nothing to do with that bottle of wine the night before and the fact that I didn't sleep well.
Angry Mum

When I forget to pay for the bin collection and they don't collect our overflowing bins it's their fault for not reminding me. I mean really - could they not make a simple phone call first?!

When I have arguments with my husband he is always the one that is in the wrong. Well naturally he is, because it couldn't possibly be my fault could it?

Or could it?

Could it be possible that there are instances - few and far between of course - where I am in fact the one to blame? That it's me that drops the perfume, hits my thumb, gets lost, gets shouty, forgets bills or starts the argument....?

Could it??

Nah. I didn't think so either.

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