On thin ice
Many years ago, I lived in a neighborhood that surrounded a small lake. It was beautiful and there were all kinds of ducks and birds and squirrels. One day, when we had a snow day, the lake had frozen over and was covered in ice with a dusting of snow. I heard the voices of kids playing in the early afternoon, and I could hear the voice of two kids calling to someone else to come on. The next thing I heard was the sound of cracking ice, and-- a silent echoing second later, shrill screams. I grabbed a broom that was lying in the kitchen and ran down the hill frantically. I nearly broke my neck on the ice-covered sidewalks, but I rounded the corner and reached the lake, where I saw two kids wet from the waist down on the shore, and two others wading out of the water. I sat there gasping for breath, and they climbed out the hill and shivered their way home. They looked at me with wide-open eyes, and I didn't say anything to them other than that they were lucky.
Now, sweetheart, you came to me and told me you were in trouble. We talked a while longer, and I realized that there was some of your story that was not the truth. Maybe you were protecting your illusion of yourself.
But I was left with a decision. I finally had to think of what I would want if I was your mother. I would want to know, even if it made me cry-- which is what your mother did on the phone.
I'm sure you are angry. I hope that one day you will understand that I was afraid for you, and had to make sure someone would take care of you. I will not speak of this with you again unless you bring it up. I was afraid you would fall through the ice and in get in over your head, and not be able to get out. I could hear the cracking, and you could too.
And that's all I have to say about that.