a true story about big feelings
She Announced It Like Breaking News. Then She Said No.
She freezes mid-step, hands clamped behind her, and tells me it's coming like it's the biggest news in the world.
the realization
The accident wasn't the hard part. My face was. Once I stopped fixing and just sat down next to her, the shame had somewhere to go, and so did she.
She announces it like breaking news. Frozen mid-step, hands clamped behind her, eyes huge. In this house, that gets a whoop. So I whooped. I ran for the potty like the building was on fire.
have you ever felt this way too?
And she backed into the doorframe. Come on, it's coming, just sit, two seconds. My hands went under her arms and I lowered her down anyway. She went stiff as a board. And it happened in her underwear regardless, right there, with the potty an arm's length away.
I didn't say a word. But you knew. My face did the whole speech for me, and she saw it, and she looked away from me. That look. I hate that I put it there.
So I sat down on the floor beside her. You told me, I said. You told me it was coming. Sitting feels hard, I know. Her hands finally unclamped. I slid the potty over to her, set her little bear on the seat. Next time, I stayed put. I heard you. I'm right here. She didn't sit. One finger touched the rim. Then she was gone, off to play, lighter.
what I found myself saying
"You told me. You told me it was coming."
"Sitting feels hard, I know."
"I heard you. I'm right here."
