My 8yo son woke up with a nasty, painful cough last week. The kind a parent only needs to hear once to know your kid is hurting.
His younger sister fought through croup a few days earlier, so it made sense.
I helped him steam up the shower to ease his breathing. He complained about the eucalyptus spray, but it helped and I could tell he liked it. As much as 8yo boys idolize their dads, they also love to oppose them.
“Dad, do I still get to go to my friend’s house today?”, he asked.
“No. Sorry buddy. We’ll have to do it next week.”
He let out a sigh that could have blown our house down. “This is the worst day ever.”
It was 7:55am. I smiled.
“Worst day ever, huh? The day has barely started.”
“Yeah, and I already have this cough, I don’t get to hang out with my friend and you probably won’t let me stay up late tonight.”
“You’re right. About all of that.”, I said. “You have a cough, you aren’t going to your friend’s, and you won’t stay up late tonight. But what do we always talk about with E+R=O?”
He stared at me, not interested in actually answering. So I continued.
“How a day starts doesn’t set how the rest of the day goes or how it ends. You decide that. Today won’t be what you planned, but now you get to make it something else. It will only be the worst if you make it the worst. And why would you do that?”
“Can I go get dressed now, Dad?”
I smiled again.
“Yes, go.”
I may or may not have chased him the whole way.
10 hours later at dinner, we ate on the patio, enjoying a cooler evening than we’ve had in a while. Our daughter was staying at Nana’s house, so it was just me, my wife, and my son.
Unprompted, our son says, “Today was the best worst day ever.”
My wife and I smirked at each other and shared a knowing glance. We looked at our son and smiled at him. The smile he gave us back said everything. No other words were necessary. We understood that he understood, and he understood that we understood.
We cheers’d.
“Here’s to The Best Worst Day Ever.”
Event + Response = Outcome. Do the work.
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