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Description
I'm in a grocery store, pushing a shopping cart. The only thing on my mind is how little money I have and how I'm ever going to have enough food for I and my three year old son. I pull down a box of Publix brand coco crispies and count the dollars and cents I have to spend. That's when I realize I left my cash at home in my wallet. The wallet in my pants is holding my debit card and my security licenses. Immediately, I count how many times I've used my debit card, the amount of times I've put money into the account, and the number is alarmingly (but not surprisingly) low. I open my phone to look online at my account to confirm what I'm thinking.
"Daddy, look at me!" he whispers.
I glance from my phone and watch him clap his hands.
"Clapping!" he says as he performs the verb.
I smile at his performance and go back to doing the math. Twelve dollars in the account leaves me ten dollars of groceries. I put my phone down and look into the eyes of my beautiful baby boy. Ten dollars of baby food would last the week. I could go home now and get the cash, but that would be six dollars of gas wasted. Six dollars could give my child food for a few days.
"Daddy, Daddy, look!"
I can't look right now. I have to finish this so we can get home and get him in bed. His mom is probably already wondering where we are. A loaf of bread is $1.21, meat is on sale - 2 for $6, cereal is $2.25. I'm already at $9.41 and I need milk.
"Daddy, look. Fingers."
I place my finger inside his palm and his little hand grasps my digit. I hope this satisfies him enough to let me concentrate. I think of all the groceries we need on a regular basis, and all the things we already have.
"Baby food." I remind myself aloud, "I need to buy baby food."
"Daddy."
"Yes." I sigh.
"Daddy."
"Yes?"
"Daddy!"
"What?!" I shout.
The look on his face is one of fear and shame now. I'm instantly pulled away from the real world of money and prices and tribulations. I'm transported to an emotion of pity and guilt for taking out the stress of life on this clueless child. I see tears fill his eyes and the scared look on his face at the monster that just lashed out of me. I'm reminded of how much I promised myself I would not fail him. How much I had kicked myself in my teenage years, through my early twenties; through his birth and early development. I swore that I would tame myself to be the daddy he needs me to be. I wouldn't allow my anger to rule me. I wouldn't let my my selfishness come between my child and I. And now, in this one instance; just one stumble caused me to fail. A tear came to my own eyes as I watch my baby recoil in the shopping cart, away from me. The trust was broken. The moment was ruined. And now, the question is echoing in my head.
What could be so important in my life that I have to punish my child for interrupting it?
Selfish. I'd been absolutely selfish.
He begins to cry and I slowly place my fingers in the palms of his hands. I kiss his forehead and hold him so he'll stop crying. My heart is racing because I caused undeserved fear; undeserved pain.
"I'm sorry." I repeatedly whisper, hoping he won't cause too much of a scene, but more so he'll take me back as his daddy.
He stops crying and hugs me, mumbling something to tell me it's okay.
I wipe the tears away and ask him "What did you want to show me?"
He places his hand on my chest and says "Heart."

Description
I'm in a grocery store, pushing a shopping cart. The only thing on my mind is how little money I have and how I'm ever going to have enough food for I and my three year old son. I pull down a box of Publix brand coco crispies and count the dollars and cents I have to spend. That's when I realize I left my cash at home in my wallet. The wallet in my pants is holding my debit card and my security licenses. Immediately, I count how many times I've used my debit card, the amount of times I've put money into the account, and the number is alarmingly (but not surprisingly) low. I open my phone to look online at my account to confirm what I'm thinking.
"Daddy, look at me!" he whispers.
I glance from my phone and watch him clap his hands.
"Clapping!" he says as he performs the verb.
I smile at his performance and go back to doing the math. Twelve dollars in the account leaves me ten dollars of groceries. I put my phone down and look into the eyes of my beautiful baby boy. Ten dollars of baby food would last the week. I could go home now and get the cash, but that would be six dollars of gas wasted. Six dollars could give my child food for a few days.
"Daddy, Daddy, look!"
I can't look right now. I have to finish this so we can get home and get him in bed. His mom is probably already wondering where we are. A loaf of bread is $1.21, meat is on sale - 2 for $6, cereal is $2.25. I'm already at $9.41 and I need milk.
"Daddy, look. Fingers."
I place my finger inside his palm and his little hand grasps my digit. I hope this satisfies him enough to let me concentrate. I think of all the groceries we need on a regular basis, and all the things we already have.
"Baby food." I remind myself aloud, "I need to buy baby food."
"Daddy."
"Yes." I sigh.
"Daddy."
"Yes?"
"Daddy!"
"What?!" I shout.
The look on his face is one of fear and shame now. I'm instantly pulled away from the real world of money and prices and tribulations. I'm transported to an emotion of pity and guilt for taking out the stress of life on this clueless child. I see tears fill his eyes and the scared look on his face at the monster that just lashed out of me. I'm reminded of how much I promised myself I would not fail him. How much I had kicked myself in my teenage years, through my early twenties; through his birth and early development. I swore that I would tame myself to be the daddy he needs me to be. I wouldn't allow my anger to rule me. I wouldn't let my my selfishness come between my child and I. And now, in this one instance; just one stumble caused me to fail. A tear came to my own eyes as I watch my baby recoil in the shopping cart, away from me. The trust was broken. The moment was ruined. And now, the question is echoing in my head.
What could be so important in my life that I have to punish my child for interrupting it?
Selfish. I'd been absolutely selfish.
He begins to cry and I slowly place my fingers in the palms of his hands. I kiss his forehead and hold him so he'll stop crying. My heart is racing because I caused undeserved fear; undeserved pain.
"I'm sorry." I repeatedly whisper, hoping he won't cause too much of a scene, but more so he'll take me back as his daddy.
He stops crying and hugs me, mumbling something to tell me it's okay.
I wipe the tears away and ask him "What did you want to show me?"
He places his hand on my chest and says "Heart."