Imagine this: You’re out with your family on a day adventure in the woods. You’re very young, under 5. You think that throwing rocks in the river is a thrilling experience. You continue searching and picking up the biggest rocks you can handle – the bigger the splash, the more satisfaction. Finally you see it. There, the rock that has been calling your name. You grasp it in your hand, feeling the weight, satisfied with what you see and exhilarated by what’s going to happen. You decide you’ll try to throw like Dad’s been teaching you with a baseball. You brace yourself, wind your arm back, and let go. Oh no! You failed to realize, because you’re too little, that throwing something so big is going to cause you to inadvertently change your trajectory. You didn’t hear the splash. You start looking to find out where the rock went. You turn. You see Dad running towards Mom. And there’s Mom, sprawled out on the ground. Beside her, the rock. Oops.
Sorry mom didn’t mean to knock you out with my super awesome, much too big for me, rock. However, I have now provided you with a story you can tell to all my friends, all your friends, and anyone in your path, about how much your daughter ‘dislikes’ you and “it all started with that day she threw a rock at my head.”
P.S – I love my mom and this is one of her favorite stories.