Imagine your mom. Imagine your mom really tired from work and all she wants to do is take a nap. But no, she still has to deal with your shennanigans and do chores at home. She bathed you, got you dressed, and then prepared your dinner. She took time to steam broccoli and she made you yummy omelette. She was going to let you watch "Toy Story" too during dinner. As she was looking for the DVD, you tried to be helpful and took your plate from the kitchen into the living room. Then it happened.
You tripped or something and your dinner landed on the living room floor with ketchup splatter everywhere. Imagine this action in slo-mo...your mom whipped her head around and saw what happened. She wanted to cry. You cried. Then she yelled at you. Last thing she wanted to do was to clean this up. She rubbed her temples knowing it was an accident. As you cried on the floor, she quietly cleaned up the mess while mumbling something about someone's-laughing- out-there-and-it-ain't-her. She took you and washed your ketchup-splattered hands. Then she gave you a long hug. She fixed the living room, set her own omelette down in front of you, and told you to eat. She then loaded "Toy Story", made toast and coffee for herself, and left the room. It was quiet for the rest of the evening. Sorry mommy.