
You take your kids into the store and the moment you walk in, everything turns sour. A tantrum begins, but you only need one item, so you pray that you can just make it quick. You are rushing though the store, trying to keep the tantrum in the cart, and while you are grabbing that one item that you need, an old woman turns to you and makes a snide remark about your lack of parenting skills. Perspiration breaks out on your forehead as you feel yourself flush with embarassement. You want to bite back, but is it worth it? No. Is it polite? No. The next best thing is to escape. Flee, before the tears that you were already holding back make their way to the surface. You pay for the one, single, blasted item that you needed, and get the tantrum contained in the car. Thankfully, you have large sunglasses that can cover the tears that are now welling and can no longer be blinked back. The tantrum makes it all the way home. You are still warm and are so grateful that it is raining and windy because it cools your hot cheeks. You get the tantrum put away into the bedroom and sit down on the stairs crying, trying not to hate that mean old lady...
I did today.