The woes of a pissed off perfectionist

I looked my 11 year old daughter in her big round, brown eyes. I had called her into the kitchen where I was cooking supper, because i suddenly realized I had said a horrible thing to her and I had to make it right. In those big, beautiful tender eyes I saw fear and dread. I had done that. I had put that dread and fear in her heart that came spilling out of her eyes. She stood there timidly, waiting to hear what I wanted to say and my heart broke a little inside my chest.
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