After My Son Called Me A Nanny, I Chose To Divorce

While cleaning up my son’s scattered toys, he suddenly spoke.

“Actually, I’m quite ashamed to have a mother like you.”

My hand was scratched by a toy and I was momentarily unable to react.

He said to himself, “Even though you wash my clothes and cook for me, that’s not the kind of mother I want. A mother should be like Miranda, not a nanny like you.”

I felt like I’d been hit hard.

Perhaps my face was too grim, but my son burst into tears and threw himself into my husband’s arms.