It seems like every time I go to Wal-Mart something happens to trigger a melt down. Toys, food, over-stimulation, complete boredom or a combination of any of those, mix together to create complete chaos. I'm not talking your average run of the mill kid crying in a store. More like demonic possession. Something about that store ruins children.
I've seen you. You beg, plead, reason, whisper and even bribe them to stop. When all else fails, you resort to yelling, threatening and possibly abandoning your cart while you hold a screaming & flailing child like a football, and get the fuck out of there with that apologetic look on your face. I've been you.
There have been a few times that I've left Wal-Mart and wondered if someone called the police. I thought for sure I was going to be questioned as to if I was:
A) Abducting a child
B) About to abuse my child because I yelled "I'll give you something to cry about!" in a fit of blind rage.
I even checked the people of Wal-Mart website to make sure I wasn't on it after one particular incident.
We have had a few incidents, where P reached a 5 on the Fujita Scale of freak outs. That's a meltdown that occurs in public where she also makes herself throw up. Yeah, she's one of those kids. It's lovely finding a 16 year old employee, asking for a roll of paper towels and cleaning up puke while trying not to loose your shit. You see this, kid? This is me providing you with birth control for at least 2 more years. Tell your parents I said your welcome.
Luckily, the angry vomiting days seem to be behind us. My fingers are crossed and I'm knocking on wood. I can't handle that level of freak out anymore. But the attitude fueled rage still lingers over us like a daunting, black storm cloud as we wait for the temperamental twister to begin.
*Cue movie announcer voice*
Until next time on Shopping with Kids: True Parenting Story
Duh, Duh, Duh...
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