Shouting

Yesterday afternoon, during the witching hour--that hour right before dinner when the kids go crazy--I totally lost my cool. My son was pestering me to pick up a pen cap off the floor for him while I was stirring meatballs into hot spaghetti sauce and my daughter was hanging on my leg whining. I turned to him and shouted "Hey!" with what I thought was a withering glare. I caught myself, took a breath, and apologized: "I'm sorry for shouting at you. I shouldn't have done that." I thought, rather proudly, that I was doing such a great job parenting, providing him with an example of contrition without justifying my actions. But he totally missed that point. "Mom," he said. "Shouting is what you do at birthday parties! But you shout 'surprise.'" I had just started a party without even knowing it.