Last night, Marissa really, really wanted to go over to her friend’s house to play. The problem is that the friend lives a couple of streets over, and there was no way I was sending her hiking her way over there by herself. Evidently, she promised her little friend that she would call her after school and confirm that she, too, could play.
But, only after Jason had fired up the grill and tossed dinner on it to cook, did she let us know that she was unable to call her friend because she had lost the number. The next logical thing in her mind was for Jason to take her over the the friend’s house so they could talk and figure out whether or not they could play. No problem, right? Wrong.
Jason told Marissa that he couldn’t just drop everything and run her to a friend’s house, especially if we hadn’t talked to the parents, so with that said, he turned, continued grilling, and was oblivious (as far as I could ascertain) to the now-escalating panic of our 8-year-old.
Her eyes teared up, and she slouched in the chair looking dejected and sad, so finally I agree that we would ride over to her friend’s house to see if she could come out and play with Marissa. As it turned out, the little friend was just piling into the family car for an outing, so they would not have been able to play together anyway.
But the big deal…the HUGE deal to Marissa was the fact that she had told her friend she would call, and she didn’t call. Because someone (an accusatory-tone-type someone) had misplaced her friend’s number.
Only after we had indeed found her friend and retrieved the phone number anew did Marissa calm down enough to explain to me what the actual problem was. She said something like this:
“When Daddy gets frustrated, he stops undertanding.”
Yep, as Jason and I discovered last night, that little girl is pretty astute. He does sort of stop understanding once frustration sets in.
So hey, Jason, would you mind stopping not understanding? It’s really freaking us girls out!