Even the Best Intentions

The Story Behind the Story

My daughter arrived in our family when my son was 20 months old. Just after that first week, I wanted to show my boy how much he still meant to me even though we had another family member. So I got a babysitter and took him out, hopeful for a beautiful connection, just the two of us. Here’s how it actually went.

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Even the Best Intentions

by Sarah Steele
August 2012

She had the best intentions. A morning devoted to her toddler. The toddler who had been renamed “The First Born” a week ago, when his little sister entered his house.

Painting, coffee shop (fifty cent day-old muffins!), kicking balls, and swinging. She planned to remind him how special he was to her, how he had not been replaced, how much she loved him.

And then.

Breakfast was eggs.
Painting was boring.
Muffins were eaten too quickly.

She could see the tantrum forming, and there was still nothing she could do to prevent it. Little shove on the table. Push the cup of water. Flail arms about. Throw body out of chair to land on the floor. Bite tongue. Gush blood…everywhere. In the coffee shop. With a business meeting in session. At the next table over.

She took him out to the car. More saddened than angry. Now they couldn’t kick the ball in the field or swing so high or race down the slide. He had no idea all the fun she had planned, all the ways she wanted to spend time with him, just him.

No. He just wanted more day-old muffin.