Nathan answered before I could.
“That’s the problem.”
Connor looked at him.
“You didn’t think.”
A store employee arrived with paper towels and asked whether we needed help.
Nathan explained what had happened.
He didn’t minimize it.
He didn’t call it horseplay.
He didn’t call it a misunderstanding.
“My son poured milk on her baby,” he said.
The employee looked horrified.
Nathan paid for the opened bottle and asked whether there was somewhere private where I could clean Mason up.
A manager led me to the employee restroom.
I washed Mason’s hair with warm water in the sink.
He whimpered when I touched his head.
That nearly broke me.
Once he was clean, I wrapped him in the spare sweatshirt I kept in his diaper bag.
When I came back out, Nathan and Connor were still there.
Connor was holding a mop.
I almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
