Let Them Be Little

She made her way in, sleepy-eyed and groggy. “Mama, I accidentally had a accident in my bed.” Annoyed, and tired, I huffed out of bed in search of clean PJs.

Peeling the wet ones off I asked, with a tone not so kind, “Did you not go potty before bed?” she whispered, slowly, “I think, I accidentally, free-got.” I sighed, a big sigh.

Not much time passed, I lie awake, one part of the now Quinn sandwich that has become our bed, and my stomach turned.

How unfair of me. How silly and childish of me. I turned and quietly spoke towards her but no one in particular, “I accidentally free-got to let you be little. Mama’s sorry.” It’s so easy to get caught up in being a grown up. A grumpy, sleep-deprived, adult with a bad attitude.


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