Monday, September 19, 2005
Fear
"Mama, I don't want to go," whimpered the little one.
I gritted my teeth and counted to ten. He was only five after all.
"But Timmy, you have to go. You have a stomachache. If you want to get rid of it, you have to. Come on, come on."
Tim squeezed shut his eyes and pulled his blanket over his head. His muffled voice informed me, "I can stand it. I don't have to go to the toilet now. I will go in the morning Mama, I promise!"
Exasperated, I gave up and went off to sleep.
The next morning, a messy and smelly pile awaited me.
Tim stood meekly by his bed, looking down at his toes for all he was worth. I had whipped off the bedsheets and thrown them into the washtub to soak, all with a stony face. Then, I went into my room to retrieve a long, thin cane.
Tim burst into tears even before I said a word and ran into my arms, clinging onto me like a little koala. I had no choice but to try to soothe while reassuring him that I would not kill him.
When the howling stopped, I sat him down on the stripped bed, dirty pants and all. Solemnly, I asked, "Tim, why did you poo-poo on the bed?"
Tim blinked back a few tears before he answered," I poo-pooed on the bed because...because I needed to poo-poo."
"Well, why didn;t you go to the toilet?"
"Because..I was scared...that..the hand would come out.."
Stupified, I asked, "What hand?"
His little body shook as he replied," The one which would ask what color tissue you wanted!"
The hand.That hand!
A few days ago, after attending a Halloween party, Tim was in the mood for more ghost stories.To pacify him, I had told him one which my own mother had told me years ago. It was about a bloody hand which would emerge from the toilet and ask if you wanted red,blue or white tissue. If you happened to sit on the toilet during the night, it would just grab your buttock and pull you down to the deep,dark depths of where it lived in. Tim had laughed hysterically and I had assumed that he had forgotten about it.
"Words are, of course, that most powerful drug used by mankind," quoted my husband, who had witnessed this confession from the doorway.
I glared at him as he bounced in and carried Tim on his shoulder. He grinned and said, "Timmy boy, you are a big, strong man, right?"
Tim straightened up and chirped, " Yes!"
"Then, why are you scared of the hand?Come on, ket's go and yell down the toilet: We are two big strong man and if you come out, we will flush you down! Let's go!"
I shook my head and followed the pair into the bathroom. Never would I admit that I myself didn't dare go to the toilet during the night.
want some cupcakes?
4:54 PM
