"You're Dwelling on Your Mistakes Again"

 "Sticky's mind returned to the nightmare he'd awakened from this morning. All those scorpions on the floor. Contrary to what others might expect, he didn't imagine they represented Ten Men.

"'You're dwelling on your mistakes again,' his mother had said to him not long ago, and not for the first time. 'It's good to acknowledge them, but I do wish you'd not forget everything you get right.'

"They'd been having breakfast in their home across the street. Sticky had just awakened from a similar dream.

"Sticky's father had nodded his agreement, which for such a profoundly quiet man was a significant contribution to the discussion. 

"'I know,' Sticky had said, taking up a glass of grape juice, then setting it down again. 'You're right, Mom. I know that. I just get so frustrated! I never see Reynie make the mistakes I do.'

"His mother regarded him with hooded eyes. 'Can Reynie do all the things you can do?'

"Sticky sighed and rubbed his scalp. 'No, I know. I just don't like making mistakes.'

"'Reynie makes his own share of mistakes, love,' said Sticky's mom. 'You just don't dwell on those. Do you know who probably does?

"Sticky pursed his lips. 'No idea. Constance?'

"They all chuckled at this.

"'Well, she probably does, too,' Sticky's mom admitted. 'And on everyone else's. But there's a reason, you know, that your father and I are comfortable with you making your own decisions. You're doing a wonderful job leading your life. We only hope you'll come to us for love and support--and maybe, sometimes, even advice. Who knows?'

"'I'll always come to you for all of those things,' Sticky had said, rounding the table to hug his parents. 'Advice included.'

"Now, in the Blab, Sticky took a deep breath and let it out. He tapped a pencil on the clipboard. Yes, he'd forgotten the chemicals on the rooftop patio, and it hadn't occurred to him to get a copy of Mr. Curtain's letter, and he hadn't thought to ask Tai about his reading abilities before scanning the letter. That was okay. He couldn't think of everything. He was who he was, and that was enough. He knew that. He believed it. And now it was time to rejoin his friends."

--Trenton Lee Stewart, The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Riddle of Ages, pp. 186-187