Discipline.
Discipline.
DISCIPLINE.
I gasp when I walk into the room that had once held clean walls. John had painted over them with fresh paint just the other day. Nadia was sitting cross legged and, with a crayon in her hand, looking very much like the culprit.
"Nadia!" John yells, causing me to wince. He never raised his voice, so I knew he was angry.
She jumps and looks over her shoulder. Her eyes instantly flood with regret as John storms over to her. “What are you doing?!”
"I was-"
He snatches the crayon out of her hand. “You’re gonna clean up this mess right now, young lady. Go get a bucket and a sponge.”
"But-"
"NOW!"
Nadia stumbles to her feet and shuffles out of the room. I frown. “John. You shouldn’t scream at her like that.”
He scoffs at me, his eyes widening. “No? Look what she did! If she didn’t want to get yelled at, she shouldn’t have-“
"She’s six years old," I shoot back, getting defensive. "I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have done it if she knew you were doing to be so harsh with her."
"I’m her father, I have to be harsh sometimes," he mutters, quickly running a hand through his hair and making his way over to the bed. I take another look at the colored wall, observing exactly what she’d doodled. My face hardens. "John-"
"Don’t feed me that bad parenting bullshit," he says in a sour tone. "She needs to learn her lesson."
I turn to face him, crossing my arms. “Did you even bother to see what she was writing?”
John raises an eyebrow before observing the tiny picture she’d drawn next to each number. She had 1 + 1 + 1, and beneath each was one of us. She even wrote out ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy,’ as well as her own name. After the equal sign, there was the number 3 inside of a heart, with ‘family’ under it. She drew the three of us again, next to a little house and a tree.
I watch Nadia come back into the room, with her head hanging sadly as she dragged the small bucket. John bites his lip guiltily, looking up at me. I shake my head and he sighs.
"Dee," he croaks as she kneels down to start scrubbing. He crouches down to her level and slowly takes the sponge out of her hand. "You don’t have to wash it off. I didn’t see the pretty drawing you did. I’m sorry I yelled at you, baby."
She pouts and sniffles. “I was just practicing my n-numbers and spelling. I couldn’t fi-find paper.”
He frowns and smooths down her long straight hair. “No, it’s okay. It can stay there. It’s very nice, Nadia.”
I let him comfort her for a few seconds. She moves away when he tries to pull her into his chest, something he always did. I catch the dismay in his eyes and kneel down next to her.
"Sweetie," I whisper. "Daddy didn’t mean to make you feel bad. He was upset at first, so he yelled at you. I’m sure he’s sorry." I glare at him.
His eyebrows furrow. “I am. Can you forgive me, princess?”
Nadia rubs the water out of her eyes and nods, wrapping her arms around her father’s neck in a quick hug. He sighs in relief and rubs her back. He kisses her forehead. “Thanks, baby. Were you finished with it?”
"No…I was going to draw a puppy like the one I wanted for Christmas. But I’m sleepy."
I stand and pick her up, letting her cling to me. I rest her head on my shoulder and look down at John. “You can finish it tomorrow. Meanwhile, let’s leave daddy in timeout.” She giggles and he smiles softly.
After tucking her in and returning to the bedroom, I catch him outlining the numbers darker. He sighs. “Go ahead. Say it.”
I smirk. “Say what?”
"I’m an asshole." He leans back on his hands and stares up at me as I approach. "I’m an asshole to my own daughter."
I laugh. “You’re not an asshole. You just have a bad temper and don’t think before you act.”
He shrugs. “You know what I think?”
"What?"
He smiles. “I think I owe her that puppy.”
I gasp when I walk into the room that had once held clean walls. John had painted over them with fresh paint just the other day. Nadia was sitting cross legged and, with a crayon in her hand, looking very much like the culprit.
"Nadia!" John yells, causing me to wince. He never raised his voice, so I knew he was angry.
She jumps and looks over her shoulder. Her eyes instantly flood with regret as John storms over to her. “What are you doing?!”
"I was-"
He snatches the crayon out of her hand. “You’re gonna clean up this mess right now, young lady. Go get a bucket and a sponge.”
"But-"
"NOW!"
Nadia stumbles to her feet and shuffles out of the room. I frown. “John. You shouldn’t scream at her like that.”
He scoffs at me, his eyes widening. “No? Look what she did! If she didn’t want to get yelled at, she shouldn’t have-“
"She’s six years old," I shoot back, getting defensive. "I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have done it if she knew you were doing to be so harsh with her."
"I’m her father, I have to be harsh sometimes," he mutters, quickly running a hand through his hair and making his way over to the bed. I take another look at the colored wall, observing exactly what she’d doodled. My face hardens. "John-"
"Don’t feed me that bad parenting bullshit," he says in a sour tone. "She needs to learn her lesson."
I turn to face him, crossing my arms. “Did you even bother to see what she was writing?”
John raises an eyebrow before observing the tiny picture she’d drawn next to each number. She had 1 + 1 + 1, and beneath each was one of us. She even wrote out ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy,’ as well as her own name. After the equal sign, there was the number 3 inside of a heart, with ‘family’ under it. She drew the three of us again, next to a little house and a tree.
I watch Nadia come back into the room, with her head hanging sadly as she dragged the small bucket. John bites his lip guiltily, looking up at me. I shake my head and he sighs.
"Dee," he croaks as she kneels down to start scrubbing. He crouches down to her level and slowly takes the sponge out of her hand. "You don’t have to wash it off. I didn’t see the pretty drawing you did. I’m sorry I yelled at you, baby."
She pouts and sniffles. “I was just practicing my n-numbers and spelling. I couldn’t fi-find paper.”
He frowns and smooths down her long straight hair. “No, it’s okay. It can stay there. It’s very nice, Nadia.”
I let him comfort her for a few seconds. She moves away when he tries to pull her into his chest, something he always did. I catch the dismay in his eyes and kneel down next to her.
"Sweetie," I whisper. "Daddy didn’t mean to make you feel bad. He was upset at first, so he yelled at you. I’m sure he’s sorry." I glare at him.
His eyebrows furrow. “I am. Can you forgive me, princess?”
Nadia rubs the water out of her eyes and nods, wrapping her arms around her father’s neck in a quick hug. He sighs in relief and rubs her back. He kisses her forehead. “Thanks, baby. Were you finished with it?”
"No…I was going to draw a puppy like the one I wanted for Christmas. But I’m sleepy."
I stand and pick her up, letting her cling to me. I rest her head on my shoulder and look down at John. “You can finish it tomorrow. Meanwhile, let’s leave daddy in timeout.” She giggles and he smiles softly.
After tucking her in and returning to the bedroom, I catch him outlining the numbers darker. He sighs. “Go ahead. Say it.”
I smirk. “Say what?”
"I’m an asshole." He leans back on his hands and stares up at me as I approach. "I’m an asshole to my own daughter."
I laugh. “You’re not an asshole. You just have a bad temper and don’t think before you act.”
He shrugs. “You know what I think?”
"What?"
He smiles. “I think I owe her that puppy.”