The high price of seduction... never forget

The high price of seduction… 

I fell for  sugary promises and fanciful lies. 

In my folly, in the wee hours of a cold January morning I ignored every impulse to run. 

I foolishly succumbed to temptation.  I had an out. 

I ignored it. 

He was handsome. Dark eyes. Dark hair. Carmel skin. He put his hands on my cheeks and said, “I like you. I want to stay here with you.” 

I melted.  

Just this once. 

What could be the harm?

I was run down from the holidays. 

No one else was going back to school until Wednesday… 

I made the excuses.  

Count it as part of my on going Christmas break. I deserve this – I negotiated with myself. 

Just this once. 

“Well, okay…” I caved.  

I pulled the covers up to my chin and turned off the alarm.

We watched Batman and ate fruit loops.  

He pelted me with kisses. 

He told me I was pretty. 

Coffee tasted better.  

The sheets felt warmer. 

I bought every word he whispered in the dark. 

An hour later his partner in crime showed up.   

He too, showered me with kisses and told me he loved me.  

Handsome just the opposite, blonde hair, mysterious eyes… All American gorgeous. And all he wanted was to be with me. James Dean good looks and mischievous grin, I was utterly smitten.  Forget the dishes. Forget the laundry. 

What a great day to play hooky from Mother’s Day Out. 

 And it has cost me greatly.  

Boys and their mischievous promises.  

“Just this once.” 

“No one has to know.”

“I love you… “


I am 44-years-old – I may as well be 15.  I have learned nothing. 

Mother’s Day out was created to protect me. To make me better. I pay high dollars for the precious hours when the toddlers, aka the “the vandals,” go…  They need to go. 

Never again,  I vow. 

As I scoop hair gel out of the air conditioning vent and pull urine soaked sheets off my bed, I vow – never again. 

How do I fall for this?  I am educated? I am the adult?  And now as this day winds to an end every ounce of my energies are spent. 

How will I face the rest of the week? 

Nothing is sacred. They punched their little thumbs into twenty-two kuerig coffee pods.  

Who does this?  

Who lives like this? 

And yet I have no one to blame but myself. 

I chose this path. 

I picked this road. 

I jumped in with both feet. 

I type this through weepy, tired eyes.  I search through my phone contacts for glass repair, a carpet cleaner, a plumber,  and a hazmat crew.

As I pencil in the dates for the teams of hired crews to come and right so many wrongs – I whimper “never again…” 

I transfer $1,000.00 from savings to cover the mounting expense.  

At the end of this day I am on high alert to the ridiculousness of my decision. 

Wednesday they will be the first ones to arrive at Mother’s Day out.  More than likely they’ll be the last to be picked up. I have big plans for Wednesday. 

A manicure. 

A pedicure. 

Coffee, alone at a quite cafe. I will reminisce the romantic side of loving vandals. Of believing their sweet words and stunning lies. And then I may just go get a tattoo… Which I said I’d never do. But I feel this one may be a necessity- an on going warning to myself. Not to fall for the lies – not to stumble into the trap.  Simple… Boldly scrolled, somewhere in plain view. A reminder of my foolish choice – 



1 John 4:4 (NLT) “But you belong to God, my dear children…” 

May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained. Love, Jami 😜

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