the two seconds

There is a gap between what your child says and what you say back. Most evenings it is about two seconds wide. Everything lives there.

"I'm not going to tuition tomorrow." The sentence lands, and the two seconds open. You do not have to fill them beautifully. You only have to not fill them instantly. An instant answer tells a child their sentence bounced off a wall. A pause — even a small one, even one taken while passing the roti — tells them it landed somewhere and was held for a moment before being answered.

The answer can still be no. The pause is not permission. It is receipt.

Tonight, try the pause once. Once is enough.