The Class Agreement

In Athena's Eyes: "Trophy Family"

I picked up shattered sharp pieces of Nova's green vase off the kitchen floor.

She loves this vase. Mainly because it was the first one she made herself in her Glass Blowing class. There was only one person who was susceptible to breaking this, besides my wife who wasn't even here right now.

"Shiloh Nova Frost!" I shouted.

I wasn't upset — maybe a little — only because I wasn't sure how Nova was going to react about her vase being broken. I was also weary that our clumsy and curious 8 year old may have been responsible and could've gotten hurt.

Even so many years later, Nova's near death experience still shook me to the core whenever I thought about it. Sharp objects and Nova were a bad mix.

A soft voice came from a distance, "Yes Mommy?!"

"Come to the dining room please!"

The soft paddings of feet came quickly. I could hear them scuffling and running all the way here. I was still eyeing the shattered pieces, trying to get the largest shards out of the way before anyone could get cut.

"Mommy? What happened?"

I looked up at my brown and green-eyed baby girl. Her Heterochromia makes her that much more special to Nova and I. We found it extremely funny that her right eye ended up being the green one — exactly the side where Nova's eyebrow and forearm scar are. Her long black hair coming to a wavy end at her elbows.

Clearly the donor we used to attempt to mix features similar to mine was no match for my wife's insanely dominant genes. Despite the small amount of melanin she obtained — her skin tone turned into something magical whenever she sat out in the sun — she was her mother all around.

She's wearing a white tank top and pink pajama shorts. Her eyes were fixated on the broken vase. I knew she broke it based on her facial expression, but I wanted to give her the chance to explain herself.

"Do you know what happened to Babe's vase?" I asked softly.

Shiloh's first word was "babe" and it happened to be what she called Nova growing up due to me saying it all the time. I find it to be the cutest thing and I hope she never grows out of it.

She began to fidget with her fingers, "Um ... um, it looks like it fell and broke."

I hummed, "Yes, it does seem that way. Do you know how it fell by any chance?"

Her eyes grew, and that puffy bottom lip she loved to stick out so much was sucked inside, an easy tell of guilt, "I — I got upset and I broke Babe's vase by accident ..."

"You got upset?"

She nodded slowly, looking scared now.

Nova and I agreed on disciplining our child without hitting or screaming at her. Nova's parents didn't raise her like that, though mine did.

There was nothing worse than being yelled at or hit for something you just needed to be talked to about. Especially when it came to emotions and situations you didn't understand.

Therefore the last thing we wanted was to instill fear and resentment in our child's heart. We wanted Shiloh to be able to talk to us whenever, about anything, without being scared or worried about how we'd react.

She's a child. Children are curious and learn through doing all kinds of things.

She's her own little person with her own consciousness and treating her that way is the way people should treat their kids. Yes, we raise them as best as we can, but they'll grow up and have their own problems and lives, just like everyone else.