My father didn’t want that fear to get worse.
So he invented a game.
Emily would close her eyes, and Dad would make sounds using different bath toys—the rubber duck, a little cup, a water bottle.
While she tried to guess which toy was making the sound, he carefully rinsed the shampoo from
her hair.
Every time she guessed correctly, she earned one “star.”
After ten stars, Grandpa took her out for ice cream.
I stood in the doorway, feeling tears fill my eyes.
Dad looked at me.
He understood immediately.
“You were scared, weren’t you?”
I couldn’t lie.
“Yes.”
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he said,
“You did the right thing by checking.”
I looked at him in surprise.
He continued,
“A mother should always make sure her child is safe. I should have explained our game to you sooner.”
Emily opened her eyes.
“Mom, I told you Grandpa wasn’t doing anything bad.”
I walked over and kissed her forehead.
That evening, when Dad was getting ready to leave, he stopped by the door and said quietly,
“By the way, this game isn’t new.”
“What do you mean?”
He smiled.
“You were
afraid of having your hair washed too. When you were five, I played the same game with you.”
I froze.
Then suddenly, I remembered.
Closed eyes.
The sound of water.
My father’s voice:
“Guess what it is.”
I had simply forgotten.
That moment taught me something.
Sometimes fear can make even a beautiful memory look suspicious.
But I also understood something else.
I didn’t regret opening that door.
Because when it comes to a child’s safety, it is better to check one extra time than one time too few.
And the following Sunday, I sat outside the bathroom and listened as Emily shouted through laughter,
“It was the duck, Grandpa! I guessed it again!”
And this time, I smiled too.
