“I wanna make stuff!” said Inner Child indignantly.
I got down to her level. “I mean…you can make stuff if you want. Not right now because we’re resting – but if that’s something you want to do, I will make sure you get a chance to make stuff.”
“But whe-e-en?” sobbed Inner Child, wiping her eyes with tiny fists.
“I know you don’t like to wait,” I said. I put a hand on her shoulder as she shook with sobs. Her nose was running. Tears stained her smock.
My posture softened and I invited her in for a bear hug, allowing the river of snot and tears to gush into my breast. She shook a few more times, shoulders quivering.
“You really mean that?” Her eyes got wide.
“Yes, I really mean that.”