Parenting: My Reptile Brain Reaction

My daughter still takes a bath every night. She thinks she should probably be showering because the older kids shower, but I reassure her it's for me as much as her. It's our time to talk about the day and what's going on in her head. I sit on a little stool next to the bathtub, and we discuss the finer points of hairwashing (I got schooled over Easter by my sister regarding the proper amount of conditioner to use if you don't have duck fuzz for hair, which is a third of a bottle instead of my pea-sized drop) or what happened in art class that day or what we should do on the weekend. 

Inevitably, I beg her on nonhairwashing days to keep her locks dry, and instead she immerses herself up to her chin in bubbles and soaks the bottom half of her head.

Recently I tried a shower cap. I had one from a business trip, the plastic clear kind they give out at HoJo. Of course, she soaked it, and I was annoyed. I turned around to get something and heard a weird ShushShushShush noise. 

She had the shower cap over her face and was sucking in and out against the plastic.

She was in no danger, but my brain registered in nanoseconds child with face and nose covered in plastic and freaked the fuck out. I completely lost it, tearing the shower cap from her face and screaming DON'T YOU EVER PUT PLASTIC OR RUBBER OVER YOUR NOSE AND MOUTH OR HIDE IN AN EMPTY FREEZER OR DO ANYTHING THAT WILL CAUSE YOU TO RUN OUT OF OXYGEN BECAUSE YOU COULD SUFFOCATE!

And she burst into tears immediately. 

Of course she didn't realize. She was just messing around; it's what kids do. She also has inherited my lack of common sense. My husband somehow instinctively knows which way is north and whether a piece of string is long enough to go between two poles and whether you should eat that food that's been in the refrigerator for that amount of time. I have so little common sense I have to think academically through everything, which takes a long time, so usually I just skip it, which results in me putting a metal travel mug filled with coffee in the microwave and nearly burning the house down.

Because I know how I am and how she is, I didn't feel bad about my overreactive outburst, though. I didn't want her to forget what I said. She and I tend to be daydreamers, half paying attention to the world while thinking through whatever is going on in our heads. I wanted her to be completely shocked out of whatever game she was playing with the shower cap so she would never, ever forget the bit about the impermeable materials and the breathing orifices. 

When she got out, we went and sat in her bed and played with her stuffed animals and cuddled, and I dried her tears and told her why I reacted that way, that I never, ever wanted to lose my Baby Duck and it scared me. Then she realized an animal was missing and dove under the covers to find it.

"It's okay, Mommy!" came her muffled voice. "The bed is not covered in plastic! I CAN BREATHE!"

Phew.