When Mom Became a Paper Airplane

Tessa loved paper airplanes more than anything in the world. Every day after school, she would fold crisp, colorful sheets of paper into all sorts of shapes—jets, gliders, and darts—and send them swooping through the living room.

One afternoon, Mom had just pulled a fresh apple pie out of the oven. The golden crust was still steaming, smelling of cinnamon and sugar. Just then, Tessa finished folding a sharp-nosed red plane. She pulled her arm back and threw it with all her might.

Whoosh!

Splat!

The red plane landed right in the gooey center of the hot apple pie.

"Tessa!" Mom frowned, wiping her hands on her apron. "How many times have I told you? No throwing paper airplanes in the house!"

Tessa pouted and stomped off to her bedroom. She hugged her pillow tight, grumbling to herself. "I wish Mom was just a piece of paper. If she were paper, I’d fold her into a plane and fly her far, far away. Then nobody would boss me around anymore..."

The next morning, Tessa rubbed her sleepy eyes. When she looked at her nightstand, she saw a plain white sheet of paper. Written in the center, in big black letters, was the word: MOM.

"Wow! She really turned into paper!" Tessa cheered, bouncing out of bed.

She quickly folded the paper into a sleek, pointy jet. She ran out to the porch and launched it into the sky. Zoom! The paper plane caught the breeze, spun in a circle, and disappeared into the fluffy white clouds.

"This is the best day ever! Now I can eat all the candy I want!" Tessa shouted.

She gobbled down box after box of sugary treats. She jumped on the sofa with her bare feet and dumped her entire bin of building blocks onto the floor. Best of all, there was no one there to tell her to stop.

But by the afternoon, things started to change. Her throat felt sticky and scratchy from all the sugar. She really wanted a glass of Mom’s special honey-lemon water, but there was no one to make it.

At sunset, she wasn't looking where she was going and tripped over a pile of blocks. Ouch! She stubbed her toe so hard it tingled. Usually, Mom would be there to rub it and make it feel better, but the house was empty.

By the time night fell, Tessa’s tummy let out a loud grumble-rumble. Usually, the kitchen would smell like a warm dinner by now. But Mom was a paper airplane flying somewhere over the clouds, and the stove was cold.

Tessa opened the fridge. It was full of food, but she didn’t know how to cook any of it. She tried to throw some dried noodles into a pot, but she forgot the water, and they just burned black and stuck to the bottom. She tried to crack an egg, but the hot oil popped and sputtered, scaring her into the corner.

Finally, with a growling belly and a heavy heart, she climbed into bed.

The room felt darker than usual. Outside, the wind blew through the trees, making the shadows on her wall look like monster claws reaching out to grab her. Tessa shivered. She pulled the covers up over her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. But every time she closed them, she imagined scary things—was there a goblin in the closet? Was there a mouse under the bed?

"Oh... Mom..." she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek and wetting her pillow. "I want my Mom..."

Just then, she felt a warm hand gently stroke her hair. It was a soft, familiar touch.

"Tessa, honey, why are you crying?"

Tessa’s eyes flew open. Mom was sitting right there on the edge of the bed.

"Mom!" Tessa cried out, diving into her mother’s arms. "I thought you turned into a paper airplane and flew away!"

Mom laughed softly and pinched Tessa’s cheek. "You silly goose. That was just a dream. How could I ever leave you?"

Tessa blinked, feeling the warmth of her mother’s hug. The monster shadows were gone, and the house felt safe again. It had all been a long, scary dream during her nap.

Tessa squeezed her mom tighter than she ever had before. In that moment, she knew for sure: no matter where her paper planes flew, Mom was the best thing in the whole world.