where the responsibility lies

Later in life, my mother told me that when I was little, she once caught me doing something naughty ... she didn't remember precisely what.

Mom-fashion, she began to give me a tongue-lashing.

Kid-fashion, I began to cry ... hard.

Finally, she got around to a central question in such situations:

"But why did you do that?"

And through the tears of anguish and fear and with a completely open honesty, I blurted out:

"I did it on purpose."

Not, as I would later learn, "I did it despite..." or "I did it because...."

"I did it on purpose."

No more bobbing-and-weaving, no more explaining or excusing, no more elevating or demeaning, no more better-and-worsing, no more arming and defending, just, in some completely-spent arena ...

"I did it on purpose."

This may not bang anyone else's chimes, but this morning it bangs mine. Where the bullshit runs out, the daisies have room to grow.