My friends, beware of judging the parent whose child throws a terrible tantrum in public. It could happen to you. It did happen to me, once upon a time. I was the mother of one, and pregnant with A. My then-two-year-old and I ran into the grocery store to grab a couple items. I didn’t even get a cart because we were going to be in and out of the store so quickly. But I didn’t see the milk spilled on the floor of the aisle {because I am not very observant and my tummy was a bit large}. I fell. Hard. It hurt. And it scared the two-year-old, who I had accidently pulled down with me during the fall.
I wasn’t broken, but I was shaken, and I decided that I just wanted to go home {and cry once I got there}. So I grabbed our items and headed for the express lane. An old friend of mine who helped manage the store heard what had happened to us from other customers and apologized profusely, asking over and over if we were okay. We weren’t, but I said we were so he would leave me alone.
He asked one of the girls there to carry my bag to the car for me. I felt I couldn’t refuse, so I accepted the help. As we crossed the street, the two-year-old decided he had had enough, and he decided to stop walking. Right there. In the middle of the street. No amount of coaxing could persuade him to change his irrational mind, and I was unable to carry him, having only recently been released from bedrest due to pregnancy complications. I was mortified, especially since I was near tears myself.
Somehow, we got into the car and got home, where we both collapsed in a pile of tears.
I wasn’t a very merciful person before I had children. Experiences like these taught me not to judge so quickly. You never know what preceded the tantrum. I learned to give a family the benefit of the doubt.
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