The Mess

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"What have you done!"

The little boy jumped at the cry of a woman's voice, dropping the utensil he held onto the floor as he did, before swinging around with a look of fear on his face. Standing in the kitchen doorway, expression mirroring his own, was his mother, horrified of the scene before her. Oh no, he had been caught. The boy sheepishly looked away and stared down at the mess below him. It was undoubtedly his doing, and a big one at that. It was such a mess a simple wipe down wouldn't be enough to clean it.

The boy winced as his mother became distraught. He felt ashamed for making her upset and of the mess he'd made. He had been so caught up in his curiosity; his young mind had never even considered the possibility of getting into trouble when he started messing around.

Now he was going to be punished for it.

He couldn't lie his way out of this; there was no point, as his mother had caught him red-handed. If he ran away, he'd be in more trouble than he already was. He tried to think of a way to get out of this, but his young brain couldn't provide him with any. There was only one thing he could do: Apologize. He must take responsibility and face the consequences of his actions. Like a good boy should.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just wanted to see if the baby had fluff inside."