Afterthought From a Family Fight
My daughter and her father had a fierce fight yesterday and I was able to think and write about it only today after their cease-fire.
I had three hours of teaching yesterday morning and it was no easy job. I was tired and badly needed an afternoon nap to recover my energy for the evening classes. When kitty Flower meowed time and again, my husband got annoyed and asked my daughter to put it downstairs in the yard to play for a while. My girl said yes and carried her kitty down. For a girl at her age I think she is rather reasonable and understanding for most of the time.
After a while I vaguely heard her crying out from downstairs for her father to get down and take care of her Flower for her because she wanted a drink. I heard my hubby shut the door behind him and soon my daughter got in with a key. It was quite a while before I heard her get out again. Then I dozed off with my book beside my pillows.
A sudden bang of the door woke me up completely and then came my daughter’s angry voice: “I left Flower to you and you nearly lost it. You are not a good father!” Her voice was shaken with fury not often seen in such a mild and quiet girl.
“I was looking at the flowers, the real flowers, not your noisy Flower.” Said he.
“But you said you would keep an eye on her for me, didn’t you? What if I did not get down in time?” she was shouting at her father.
“I did not really lose it, did I?”
“I found it, not you!” came her broken voice.
“So what are you crying and shouting for? She is here, safe and sound, isn’t she?” I could feel he was getting a bit impatient. But I was still very sleepy, and did not take the trouble to get up and act my usual role of a mediator.
“I was crying because you nearly lost it, would you feel sad and cry if I am lost in the park or somewhere?” my daughter questioned her father.
“Don’t be such a loud-voiced girl, don’t you know your mom is taking her nap? From what time has my daughter become a wailing annoyance?” My hubby’s anger had worked itself up to a real fury. “ I always hate to see you weeping like a baby, don’t you know you are a big girl now?” His voice was far louder than her weep, in fact.
And this did not help to stop her wailing. On the contrary, she cried more heartbrokenly for the word “annoyance”. I thought I had to intervene anyway, so I dragged myself up from the bed. But before I got out of the bedroom, I heard a crisp slap and then my daughter’s screaming for mom. I rushed out to find her face red with anger and tear-stained, one of her hand was on her shoulder, where her father slapped her. And her father was panting to better control himself.
It was time for my hubby to go to work. Quietly I led him to the door and he left with a dark and long face.
Then I went back to console my girl. I wiped her face with a wet towel and patted her back.
“Don’t be pouting, girl, believe me, your father did hate to spank you himself. He just got carried away by your continuous crying.”
Inwardly I wished her father had not done that, but then what my girl said later was even harder to believe: “Mom, why did my father beat me? He did something wrong while I did nothing wrong! I cried but crying hurts nobody. He beat me just because He is bigger and stronger than I, what if I were father and he were daughter? Can he beat me then even if I did something wrong? It’s unfair as the Iraq war!’
You never know what kids have got in their mind. I sighed. At her age, she is forming her own judgement of the world, some sort of independency is growing unnoticeably. It’s easy to ignore this subtle independence and self-esteem when we take our parenthood too much for granted. She is learning to look at herself as an independent person almost equal to us adults rather than a daughter and dependant. And we have to learn to respect this learning process.
I sat with her for a moment, hugged her gently but did not say anything. Just then the telephone rang, and my hubby called from his office to talk to his daughter. I knew they would reconcile as usual. But still I thought I might need to talk to my hubby.
