Slap Heard 'Round My World
I’ve been complimented on my reactions in life. I have a pretty good filter in place that allows me to process things and respond from a rational, logical place. My reactions even fill me with pride at times, as though I've accomplished something great, and I'll give myself a pat on the back and praise for a job well done.
Cut to: a normal evening with our daughter. I pick her up to get her ready for her bath. She clearly doesn’t want to end playtime and suddenly, takes her hand and slaps me across the face. Let me repeat that, she slaps me across my face. I know what you’re thinking — oh no she didn’t!
Um, yes, she did.
My famous filter instantly disintegrated, replaced immediately by boiling rage. How dare she! Who does she think she is? No one slaps me across the face — no one! What self-respecting woman would allow that? Of course, that's a great question in theory. The funny part is, until this very moment in my life, I had yet to test it. Oh I talk a good game about how I allow and don’t allow myself to be treated. That said, I've managed to live 33 years without ever really getting into a physical confrontation where I would have to live my words. Until now. When I was b*tch-slapped by my eighteen-month-old daughter for ending play time and starting bath time.
Even as I write, I’m smiling at how completely ridiculous this is. It just hit me — I’m making this "slap heard 'round the world" mean all sorts of things about me, such as who I am as a woman, how much I respect myself, how I teach people to treat me. Is my daughter making any of those assumptions about me? No. To her, the slap is a way she's choosing to show her frustration about her situation. The end. Quite simply, it does not mean anything else.
I take a second and a deep breath. I can feel the pieces of my filter gravitating back towards each other, seeking the places where they fit together. I sternly look her in the eye and tell her what I know to be true. It’s not nice to hit. We don't hit people; we keep our hands to ourselves. I know you “WANT PLAY” but it’s “BATH TIME,” we'll play again tomorrow. She looks at me, raises her hand like she’s going to give me a fresh one, sees the look in my eye and lowers her hand. The sanity in both of us has apparently prevailed in this round. Seems she’s putting together a filter too!
Author: Amy
