I Said “What?” Too Sharply and Watched My Child Flinch

Dear Delyara, It was one word. Not shouted. Not cruel. Just sharper than it should have been. And I saw it land on his face immediately, that tiny withdrawal children do when they have bumped into your tiredness instead of your love. He recovered fast. Started talking again. Finished the story. We moved on. I didn’t. I carried that flinch all evening like a nail in my pocket. Because children forgive with terrifying speed, and mothers remember with terrifying detail. Before bed, I went in and kissed his forehead longer than usual. He never knew why. Maybe that’s the mercy in motherhood. Maybe it’s the wound.