I was giving the Bean his bath when water splashed in his face. As per his custom, he freaked out and asked for a rag to wipe his eyes. Even though the rags were in a container that was literally right outside of the bathroom door, I rejected his request. I’m not sure what compelled me to do this. Ignoring the fact that he's six, I wanted him to stop being so dramatic over a little water. I figured in a minute he'd forget about his eye and continue on with his washing. Hee began to get really upset—the screaming, red-eyed, nose-running, sloppy sobbing kind of upset. Instead of nurturing the problem that I created and getting the boy a rag, I made it worse by calmly telling him to stop crying. The sobbing continued all the way through the bath and only calmed down after a hug from his mom and some Ninjago.
I felt really shitty about it.
At bedtime, I tucked the Bean under his covers and sat down on the bed.
I inhaled deeply and said, “In the bath tonight, you asked for a rag to wipe your eye and I didn’t give it to you. I was wrong and I’m sorry. I should have given you what you were asking for and the next time I will.”
The Bean looked visibly relieved and a slight smile crept on his face. We hugged. We kissed. We were good again. And I walked out of his room learning a very valuable lesson—if it’s important to him, it doesn’t matter if it’s not important to me.