I don’t want to show you my face. It’s too embarrassing. But right there you can see the red blood gash left by my wild nine mouth old. There are two more cuts like that on my nose and two more on my forehead. If it wasn’t for concealer, I couldn’t walk outside. But concealer cannot conceal the shame I feel for allowing it to happen. I know, don’t blame the victim. But I could have tried hard to trim his nails. I could always try to hold him facing out.
But no. I like to look at his beautiful face. And then… and then, that’s when it happens. He screams gleefully and lunges for my face. Sometimes he digs into my lip. We aren’t talking chimp level, but these little nicks are adding up.
I don’t want to leave the house.
I don’t want to admit that I let it happen every day. Several times a day.
Call me an enabler, but I love him.