It's the day after Easter. I am sick as a dog.
I am in the kitchen. I am coughing.
Alice would like very much to see the Easter egg on the counter. It is a lovely blue and green egg with sprinkles of glitter.
I pick it up. I hand it to her. Her eyes light up.
Alice: It's so.... sparkly.
I look at my fingers. They are covered in glitter. Through my influenza fog, I think of how hard this stuff will be to wash off. I think about how even after a thorough washing, I will still, hours later, find flecks of glitter on my fingers and likely my face.
Me: I hate sparkles.
Alice is silent. Her smile melts. She walks from the room.
Me: Oh, Alice... that's not what I meant...
She is gone. I am coughing. I must sit down.
***
Minutes later...
She returns.
Alice: Do boys not like glitter?
Me: Oh, Alice. Boys like glitter. I'm really sorry I said I hate sparkles. I didn't mean it like I said it. I should have said I don't like how they stick to my skin. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I think glitter is very pretty.
We are friends again.
***
Minutes later...
I sit on the couch next to Jane. I pull a handkerchief from my pocket and blast my nose into it.
Jane is staring at me. She says nothing. She seems... displeased.
Me: You okay?
Her eyes narrow.
Jane: Is it true you hate sparkles?
5 comments:
Oh the things that come back to haunt you... I hope you are feeling better.
It speaks volumes that she came back to check with you and didn't just tuck it away as yet another piece of evidence about how horrible her dad is and how she must suffer in silence for 18 long years.
Not your best moment, certainly. But not bad for a flu day, bud.
I can only imagine their conversation. I may have well said I hated unicorns.
I can only imagine their conversation. I may have well said I hated unicorns.
SHHH, wouldn't want That to get out too......
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