The two hardest words

I had an interesting glimpse into the human psyche the other night.

Robert and I were playing with Emma in her room, and I reached over to show her one of her toys. As I did, Emma quickly snatched it away from me and said, “No, mommy, that’s mine.” In the process of pulling the toy away, she inadvertently whacked me in the face.

Now, I really should clarify, I don’t believe for one moment that she meant to hit me. Clearly, she was being toddlerifically selfish, but the “injury” was purely accidental. And I should further clarify that this is not standard Emma behavior, lest the readers of this blog think I’ve raised a monster. She’s generally very sweet natured, much like her mother.

Nevertheless, Robert wisely identified this as a situation that needed to be addressed. “Tell your mommy you’re sorry,” he said in a firm, fatherly tone.

Emma immediately stood straight up, arms by her side and clamped down her jaw in stubborn defiance.

After a few moments of silence, Robert repeated the order. “Emma, tell your mommy that you’re sorry.”

Straight face, no response, her eyes firmly locked on the wall.

Robert looked at me, and then turned back to Emma. “Alright then. I guess you’re going to have to go in time out until you can say you’re sorry.”

Now, just to underscore how uncharacteristic this is of Emma, we’ve rarely had to punish her to this point in her life. And coincidentally, it’s never happened while we’ve been home. He turned back to me and we had one of those magical conversations that take place without a single word being uttered. “Where is time out?” my shrug conveyed. “I’m not sure,” his eyes replied. I motioned toward the corner with my head, and he marched her over there.

She stood silently staring at the wall for a minute or so, when Robert went over and gently spun her around. “Are you ready to say you’re sorry?”

No response.

“Emma, all you have to say is ‘I’m sorry.’ It’s easy. Tell your mommy you’re sorry for hurting her.”

No response.

He sighed. “Alright, I guess it’s back to time out.”

Two minutes later. “Now, are you ready to say you’re sorry?”

No response.

“Back to time out.”

Folks, this went on four more times, each following about two minutes worth of time out. It was a rather impressive standoff, and I was genuinely worried we’d be there all night.

Then Robert asked the controversial question one last time, after the sixth and final time out session. I’m still not sure exactly what she said, but we heard the faintest of whispers from Emma’s lips. Actually, I’m not even sure that she said anything, but her lips did move. And then she came and hugged me.

We took it. It was way past bedtime, and we were feeling drained.

Such simple words: I’m sorry. And yet even at two years old, Emma already knows how difficult they are to say.

I was thinking about this encounter with Emma today, as one of my colleagues walked into my office.

Earlier in the day, we had quite the infuriating conversation, and I had been fuming ever sense. He had said the most outlandish, unfair things, and I let them get under my skin. I was angry and discouraged by the whole situation.

So when he walked into my office, he was absolutely the last person in the world I wanted to see. Then he said the two hardest words in the English language.

“I’m sorry.”

Those words are as powerful as they are difficult, and in that moment, my anger instantly vaporized.

“I was wrong,” he said. “I was unfair, out of line, and should have never said the things I did. I apologize.”

Wow.

Weeks from now, I’m sure I will not remember the subject of our dispute. I won’t remember what he said, and I won’t remember why it made me angry. What I will remember is his willingness to make it right. I saw his character more clearly in that moment of reconciliation than I have in all the days when he’s been nice to me.

That’s the kind of transparency I want to have, and the kind of attitude I want to bestow upon my children.

In this world, there will be days we screw up royally. All of us will be at fault at one time or another, and we’re bound to hurt the people around us. In those times, it’s the people of character who will stand out because of their willingness to say, “I’m sorry.”