My daughter asked if I was cross, and I realized I looked harder than I felt

Dear Delyara, Children notice before adults do. I was making dinner, not speaking much, moving faster than usual, and she came into the kitchen and asked very quietly, “Mum, are you cross?” I turned to say no and saw from her face that she had already believed it. The truth was more complicated. I wasn’t cross with her. I wasn’t even properly angry. I was tired, overfull, carrying the leftover weight of work and bills and a phone call with my brother that had upset me more than I admitted. But to a child, tired hardness still looks like anger. That question broke my heart a little. I put the spoon down, crouched beside her, and said, “No, love. I’m tired, not cross.” She nodded, but I could tell she was still measuring my face to see if she believed me. I hate that. I hate when the adults’ invisible weather leaks into the children’s sky. After she went back to the living room, I stood there and cried for about thirty seconds, then washed my face and started again.