Craig and I have always been very attentive to keeping our disagreements away from Kate. Not that we would ever fight, but in the event that we ever did engage in such an activity, we would certainly refrain from doing so in her presence. However, that does not necessarily preclude the “looks” or the “comments” that manage to convey frustration in the moment. Because, heaven forbid you actually let something just “go” until later … am I right? Kate has been young enough that those tidbits seemingly went unnoticed by her.
Until now I guess.
Sunday night Craig dutifully obliged to giving Kate her nightly bath, since I would be losing his help for the remainder of the week. After they finished, he brought her into her room, all wrapped up in a towel. As I began to get her dressed, I noticed that her face appeared to be a little bit dirty. How could that be? Isn’t this the child who just got bathed?
“Kate, did you and Daddy wash your face when you were in the tub?”
Kate looks at me with wide eyes and mischievously glances from me to Craig and back to me.
“Kate, did you and Daddy wash your face in the bath?”
Kate starts smiling one of those nervous smiles. You know the one. If I could have read inside her little mind, I am sure the commentary would follow along these lines: Dude, Daddy is going to be in so much trouble! Of course we were supposed to wash my face in the tub, but he forgot and I was so not going to remind him. I wonder what Mommy is going to do. I can’t wait to see what happens. Is he actually going to admit it? Giggle. Giggle. Giggle.
Craig interjects a precautionary, “Oh, I guess we did forget to wash her face. I washed her body though.”
At this point, I admit that I might have possibly given him a look. Yes, the look. The I Can’t Believe You Didn’t Wash Her Face In The Tub look. This of course was exacerbated by the fact that he was seeking exemption under the premise of remembering to wash her body.
Kate’s eyes are playing ping-pong between me and Craig … waiting … appearing to quite enjoy this moment. From me to Craig, back to me, then to Craig. Waiting, watching, anticipating. I didn’t say anything, just proceeded to get Kate dressed.
Finally, Kate couldn’t take it anymore. She looks across the room and in her most exasperated valley-girl voice, says in three distinct syllables CR – AAAAIIIIII – G.
Not proud of the moment, but keeping it real here. I apparently need to work on a new approach. There is nothing like a 3-year old impersonation to make you stop and see yourself from a completely different perspective. Dang.