The other morning, Mini was bugging me about something right when I was trying to find my contacts. Stupidly, I had taken off my glasses before finding the contact lens case, and so I was searching around, half-blind, for a contact lens case with this little munchkin at my heels demanding, “FIND DOC! FIND DOC! FIND MY DOC, MAMMA!” For your reference, this is Doc.
We couldn’t find him.
But Mini was insistent that I not only must I FIND DOC, but that I must FIND DOC right that second, and I couldn’t see a damn thing, and besides, I hadn’t had any coffee yet. Truthfully, I had not even yet fully adjusted to having been jolted awake by the recessed lighting in my bedroom being turned on at full blast at 6:00 am as Mini announced his arrival in our bedroom. So, after the sixty thousandth “FIND MY DOC!!!’ and the thirty-fifth opened cupboard yielding — still — no contact lens case, I felt around for my glasses and yelled: “MINI WOULD YOU GIVE ME A SECOND?! PLEASE!! I BEG OF YOU!!”
Before you ask — yes, I yelled, and yes, I really did say, “I BEG OF YOU!” I don’t yell at Mini often, but when I do it has quite an impact. It may be the fact that it doesn’t happen that often that makes him think the toddler version of “Oh, shit.” He has the same reaction to me saying, in a calm voice, “You are making Mommy mad.”
But the other morning I did. And I sat him down and told him we’d find Doc when I got out of the shower. Just to underscore how much trouble he was in, I forced him to watch Little Bill while I was in the shower. He didn’t cry. I’m not sure what threat is inherent in this to Mini, but it is apparently very serious. It hurt my heart a little bit to think about it. Somewhere in the middle of my shower, when the steam finally got to my head, I could not take it anymore, and then I was standing in front of Mini, hair still dripping wet from the shower, me still wrapped in a towel, begging for forgiveness.
“Mini,” I said, trying to get him to look me in the eye, “Mommy is so sorry she got angry with you. I love you very much and I got frustrated, but I’m so sorry. Can I have a hug?”
And in response, a smile that could melt the polar icecaps (if they weren’t already melting) spread across Mini’s face, as he ran over to me.
“Mamma, in my heart!” he said and hugged me around the waist.
“Yes, baby, you’re in my heart, too.”