OH, THE SHAME!

The other day Beo ripped a page out of one of his books. I think it was an accident, since he obviously knew it was the wrong thing to do and was distressed until I repaired it with tape.

That sets up today's events. Kelson and I both thought Beo had gone down for his nap, since he was very quiet. What he was actually doing was reading himself his copy of Max Paints the House. And at some point, he ripped a page. Given the situation we eventually found, Kelson and I can only surmise that Beo's thought process went something like this:

Oh, no. I ripped my book! This is bad! Okay, hold on. Maybe I can fix it. If I just-- oh no! I ripped it even more! What if I-- no! No no noooo! My book! I love this book! Mommy reads it to me-- MOMMY! OH NO! Mommy is going to kill me when she sees this! But what else can I do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. What's the point of even trying? I might as well just rip and rip and RIP!

This is the worst thing I have ever done. I am so ashamed. I cannot live with myself for what I have done. Mom and Dad will hate me forever. It would have been better if I were never born! Yes... yes, that's it. I should leave. The window! I'll throw myself out and never have to face what I've done. Oooooh, the shame! The SHAME!

At this point Beo was obviously overwhelmed with guilt, since he started crying. Kelson walked in and found him straddling the back of the futon, the window open, frantically attempting to escape. This is what Kelson found on the floor:

When I got up from my own nap, Beo wouldn't even look at me. When I told him I was sad about his book, he hugged me and buried his face in my chest. OH, THE SHAME!