Grandma Fail – Ooops

“Look, Mom!  Isn’t she beautiful?  I’m naming her Luisa Dawn.”  My daughter, Emily, was holding her newborn for the very first time.

“Luisa is a beautiful name, especially the ‘Dawn’ part.  It’s a nice touch naming her after me.”  I couldn’t help but smile and admire little Luisa Dawn.

I watched as Emily cradled her precious newborn, the first few moments of motherhood adding an ethereal glow to her already beautiful face.   This was not an ideal situation for my fifteen-year-old baby, but it was a situation we would all have to learn to deal with while we figured everything out.  Just yesterday she was a student attending biology, health, and English classes.  Now she was a mother.

Motherhood was agreeing with my daughter.  She treated her newborn with utmost tender care.   She kept meticulous track of feeding times, changing times, and arranged for responsible childcare, which usually fell to me, while she attended school.   Emily kept Luisa Dawn with her at all times when she was home and tended to her every need.  I was so proud of her.

Taking care of Luisa Dawn and keeping up with school was taking its toll on Emily.   She fell asleep on the couch with an open biology book by her head and little Luisa Dawn snoozing peacefully on her tummy.  I grabbed a blanket to cover them both, and brushed against little Luisa Dawn.  I watched in horror as the baby started rolling, fell to the floor, and bounced a couple of times.  My reflexes were too slow to break her fall.

Emily jumped up from a sound sleep.  “Mom!  Oh No! Luisa Dawn!”  She cradled her lifeless child in her hands.

“She’s totally crushed!  Now I’m going to flunk Child Development.  I’m such a bad mom!  I killed my baby.  The assignment was to keep her un-cracked for two weeks!”

“Relax.  It’s okay, Emily.  Thank God Luisa Dawn was just a hard-boiled egg.”


Rewrite of a short, short story written for a class a couple years ago when given the prompt ‘hard-boiled egg.’  This isn’t real.  My daughter’s name is not Emily.  I don’t yet have grandchildren.  If I did,  I promise I would never crack them! 


  1. For our parenting course we got to take home those “almost real” babies. We had the key for it attached with a hosptial braclete to our wrists. Our doll was having problems but when it was my weekend the teacher said it was ok. It was to cry every 3-5 hours. Well it wasnt ok! By Sunday night the battery box was taken out, wrapped in towels and blankets and shoved under couch cushions haha!! I failed the project, apparently “neglecting” it 57 times over the course of 72 hours

  2. This so reminded me of years ago when I taught health class. I gave the students a hard boiled egg that they had to care for, for a week. A couple of kids lost their egg, but where then mad when they received a failing grade. It is not my fault, so and so babysat and they lost the egg. It was your responsibility to find a good sitter. Sorry.

    1. I had to do that for a child development class way back in the late 70s. I took it way too seriously and made a little feeding and changing diary and glued on little handmade clothes. The teacher told me I was a little bit of an overachiever for that assignment.

  3. You got me there! I was oooh and aching through out the whole story until the baby fell and ‘bounced’. I was like ‘oh no she didn’t!’ to laughing out loud. Great post!

  4. Had me really worried for a moment – mostly because my Rotties have this new game where they fall off the couch instead of climbing off – and I could see the baby breaking… Great short story 🙂

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