While Clara was taking her bath last night, she handed me three rubber balls and demanded that I juggle.
Juggle?
Who taught her that word?
When I tried to ignore her request, she demanded I juggle again. “Juggle, Daddy! Juggle! Please!”
So I juggled.
Except I can’t juggle, so I tossed two balls in the air at a time while holding the third, assuming this would placate her.
“No,” she said. “Three balls. Juggle, Daddy. Juggle with three balls!”
I tried. I failed. The rubber balls bounced on the bathroom floor.
Clara stared at me for a minute. She looked disgusted with me. Disgusted with me for the first time in your life.
It was not my finest moment.
Who the hell taught this girl about juggling?
More important, who led her to believe that everyone should be able to juggle?
