I’m sorry, Mama.
I know you wanted me to eat my breakfast.
I was just so excited for another big day. Besides, pancakes are the best food for building. I just couldn’t wait to make you a castle. A castle for a princess.
I saw you holding my pants open for me, shaking them and begging me to put them on already. I promise, I was gonna get dressed!
I just thought it was a good time to kiss your forehead and tell you I love you.
I made you frustrated, Mama.
I know it took me forever to go potty. I heard you sigh about a million times.
“Please, baby. Hurry up,” you said.
I guess maybe I shouldn’t have been playing with the toilet paper. But have you ever seen all the cool things you can do with it?
And then at hand-washing time, I wanted to make you smile.
But you didn’t laugh. Instead, I heard you say my whole name and snap at me.
“Wash your hands, please. Wash your hands. Wash. Your. Hands.”
So maybe it wasn’t a good time to splash the water and make silly faces at you in the mirror.
I’m really sorry, Mama.
But I kept trying. I just want you to be as happy as I am.
I know you were upset. Your voice kept getting louder and your face looked angry.
I guess I was s’posed to put on my shoes.
“Can we EVER get out of this house on time?” you asked. “Why do mornings always go like this?”
I wasn’t trying to make us late.
I just thought it was a good time for dancing. I thought dancing with me was your favorite.
I’m so sorry, Mama.
You got so mad you yelled at me. I was ready to get in the car . . . almost.
It just looked like a good time to jump in the muddy water. The puddle was RIGHT THERE, Mom. What was I supposed to do, pretend I didn’t see it?
I thought you wanted us to live an adventure, Mama.
Oh! Time to go.
I really like riding in the car with you. It calms you down.
You said you were sorry. That was nice. You told me you love me over and over. I know that, Mama.
It just hurts my heart when I make you mad. And I don’t really know how to say all of this to you yet. I’m still little.
So I decided to just be quiet and listen to the drive.
You looked back at me in your mirror just now.
“Perspective,” you said. And I don’t know what that means.
But you smiled.
So maybe we can dance tomorrow.
Originally published on the author’s Facebook page