I wish I hadn't said that

I have a fuzzy memory that I’m not sure actually happened.

I’m curled up on my bed in our Cerritos townhouse, and it’s daylight. I’m crying into my pillow, and hating my mom. Between sobs, I mutter to myself, “I wish daddy were here...” and I imagine how he would save the day.

I hope that never happened. And if it did, I hope mom never heard.