There aren’t many things more “parental” than sitting down and reading a book with your kid. They’re learning something. You’re teaching something. You’re also getting some quality time spent with them. All in all, a big win for everyone, right?
Now throw stuttering into that mix. I don’t know why, but as far as I’ve come with my stuttering in my lifetime, it’s never more difficult than when it’s me and Brian. Or me and Caroline. One on one.
It’s emarassing. It’s depressing. It’s maddening. It’s humiliating.
What’s supposed to be something so rewarding for me (as well as them) turns into something that eats at me. Every single time. It shouldn’t be like this.