not to do, we fought for three days.”
I remembered.
My mother had given Emma honey before she was old enough to have it, then dismissed our concern by saying she had raised three children and knew better than “modern parents.”
But this was different.
“You still should have told me.”
“I know.”
His eyes filled with regret.
“I thought I could figure it out first and come to you with proof. Instead, I scared you. Worse, I scared Emma.”
I looked down at my daughter.
“Why does she cry when you bathe her?”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“The water stings the irritated skin. And the cream stings for a few seconds too.”
That explained her words.
It didn’t excuse his secrecy.
“And ‘Mommy can’t know’?”
He closed his eyes.
“That was stupid.”
“Yes.”
“I told her we were making her skin better and that we’d surprise you when it was
