Wait. Rewind.
They’re not leaving you behind. They’re just finally comfortable enough to sit with who they are—and that’s a gift you gave them. rissa may stay with me, daddy
At first, my ego stung. Does she not want the ice cream? Does she not want me*?* rissa may stay with me, daddy
The Shifting Tides of Parenthood
She squirmed down, patted my knee with the condescension only a preschooler can muster, and walked back to her castle. Without looking up, she said it: rissa may stay with me, daddy
There’s a phrase I never expected to lodge itself so firmly in my chest.