The kind of sound that locks your chest and sends your body into motion before your brain can catch up. I dropped the mug, watched it shatter across the floor, and ran upstairs two steps at a time.
Johnny was curled into the corner of his bedroom, clutching his blanket with both hands. His face was red, streaked with tears, his whole body shaking. I dropped to my knees beside him, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it.
He shook his head, unable to speak through his sobs.
“We need to get ready,” I added gently, trying to keep my voice calm. “We’re going to daycare.”
That was when he looked up at me.
His eyes were wide with panic, not the dramatic kind toddlers sometimes use to avoid brushing their teeth, but real fear. He scrambled toward me and clung to my legs.
“No, Mommy. No!” he cried. “Please don’t make me go!”
I blinked, confused. “Go where?”
“Daycare!” he sobbed, the word breaking in half as it left his mouth. “Please don’t make me!”
Continue reading…
