Mother Knows Best

Harry was undoubtedly the smartest of Jake and Amy's three children. He was both book smart and street smart. He had gotten Amy's genes when it came to most things, including school work. He made his own schedules, was always punctual, and always aced tests. He was often ridiculed by Mac and Liz for being nerdy. Even Jake would join in the fun sometimes but Amy would almost immediately stop him. But even though he was made fun of by his siblings, he was not affected. He was happy for being who he was and his parents, especially his mom, would always support him.

Unfortunately, when Harry was in the sixth grade, he had a case of the chicken pox. It took him just over a week to fully recover but he was more concerned about his school than his health. You see, Harry had to submit a Science project the day he was returning to school. But with the chicken pox, his teacher had offered to extend the time for him. She had asked Amy to tell Harry to take it easy.

'Harry, you need to rest,' Amy told her son.

'No, I need to work on this diorama,' he replied.

'Honey, I'm impressed but I already talked to Mrs. Matthews. She's agreed to extend the time for you.'

'But I can do it by the original due date.'

'Harry, I know how important these things are to you. But you're not at your best right now. Just rest, and once you've fully recovered, you can make your project even better.'

'Mom, I can manage it. I've made a schedule for resting and working.'

Another trait Harry had gotten was stubbornness. This was both Jake and Amy's genes at work.

When Harry was done recovering, he had also finished completing his project. It was a good project, but it wasn't up to his usual standards. Yes, he was sick, but he still hoped it deserved an 'A'. When he took his project to school, his teacher asked him to stay back after class.

'Harry, I'm glad to see you're back and I'm very impressed that you completed the project by the actual time set,' Mrs. Matthews said.

'Thank you, Mrs. Matthews,' Harry replied.

'Now, you're project is very good, probably the best in class, but I suggest you take it home and work on it more.'

'Is it not good?'

'No, it's very good, like I said. But I feel that you could do better if you weren't sick.'

'Oh, thank you. But I'm submitting this project today.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes.'

Mrs. Matthews sighed. 'Well,' she began, 'in that case, you got a….'

When Amy went to pick up her kids from school, she could tell Harry was upset. 'So, Harry, how'd your project go?' she asked.

'Um… it was fine. Mrs. Matthews said she'd grade my project tomorrow,' Harry replied.

That didn't sound right to Amy. She knew Mrs. Matthews well enough to know that she graded the projects on the day of submission. 'Really? Why?' Amy asked her son.

'I don't know, she's the teacher! It's her choice! Can we just talk about something else?' Harry said. He was getting impatient.

'Yeah, like about how Jessica fainted today,' Liz said.

'Or, better, we could talk about how Mr. Robertson fell asleep during our History quiz,' Mac said.

Amy sighed as her eldest and youngest talked about their days while Harry looked outside the window, deep in thought.

Once they reached home, Amy got lemonade ready for everyone. Hearing about one of Liz's friends fainting made Amy worry about keeping her children dehydrated. 'Kids, I made lemonade!' she shouted. A couple of minutes later, Mac and Liz entered the kitchen but Harry was nowhere to be seen. 'Mac, where's your brother?' she asked.

'I don't know,' he replied while going through his phone.

'How can you not know? You two share a room.'

'I just don't,' he replied, clearly not wanting to take part in the conversion.

Amy turned to her daughter. 'Liz, you got any idea?' she asked.

'Nope,' she replied. 'Can I get some more lemonade?' she asked as she held her glass out.

'The pitcher's on the counter, help yourselves.'

As Amy went around her house, she kept on wondering what had gone wrong. She knew it had something to do with his project, but what? Surely, he couldn't have gotten an 'F'. Harry wasn't to be seen anywhere. She had looked everywhere except one place – the attic.

When she entered the attic, she saw him looking at his old dioramas. 'Hey,' she said as she approached her son.

Harry quickly put the diorama down and turned around. 'Mom, what are you doing here?' he asked. He was clearly not expecting anyone there.

'I could ask you the same,' replied Amy.

Harry sighed. 'I don't wanna talk about it,' he said as he looked at his dioramas.

'What's wrong, Harry? What happened to your project?'

'How did you know something happened to my project?' he asked surprised.

'Sweetie, I'm the captain in the N.Y.P.D. I can catch culprits from miles away.' Harry nodded slowly. 'So, what's wrong?' she asked as she sat down on the dusty floor.

'There was nothing "wrong" with the project,' he replied while sitting down. 'I got a "B+",' he said before tears rolled down his cheeks.

'Oh, Harry.' Amy carried her son onto her lap. It had been a really long time since he had been there. 'And you're sad because you think you deserve more?' she asked as she rubbed his back soothingly.

'No,' he said in between sobs, 'I thought you'd be disappointed.'

'Harry, that doesn't disappoint me.'

'It doesn't?' he asked as he looked up at his mother.

'Of course not.'

'But you're always so happy when I get 'A's.'

'Well, sweetie, that's because you did your best. Here, answer me this: did you do your best on the project?'

'Yeah, I think so.'

'And do you think you deserved that grade?'

'Yeah, probably.'

'So, it shouldn't matter what I think of your grade. If you get what you deserve, you should be happy.'

'Okay. But what do you think of my grade?'

Amy smiled. 'I think you're the smartest kid,' she said as she kissed the top of his head.

'So, my grade doesn't matter?'

'It never did, never does, and never will. Honey, as long as you've done your best and you're happy with what you get, I'll always be proud of you.'

'Thanks, Mom. I love you.'

'I love you too, Harry.'

A month later, as Amy was searching for a stapler in her sons' room, she happened to come across a draft of an essay, Mother Knows Best. From the handwriting, she knew it was Harry's. As she went through it, she realized that his description of a perfect mother was pretty much describing her. Her eyes welled up with happy tears because she loved it. But perhaps one part in the essay made her most emotional: 'Newton's third law of motion states, "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." However, I may have found a case where this law does not hold true – my mom. No matter how much my dad goofs around, my brother acts as an antisocial element, my sister gossips, and I stress about school, my mom's love for us never changes; no more, no less. That is why my mom, Amy Santiago, is the epitome of a perfect mother.'