Local grocery store checkout…on Tuesday…4:30pm…
“No. I said no.” Seriously, putting all that candy right there. Right at fucking kids’ eye level. I hope someone roasts in hell for that idea. Come on, let’s go people. I need to get out of here.
“Please, mommy, please can I have one? Pleeeeeeeeese.” Three year-old manners at their best. Puppy eyes, long lashes batting…begging.
“No, honey, sorry. It’s too close to suppertime. Now I don’t want to hear another peep about it.”
These are the magic words, like open sesame or abracadabra, because it produces a reaction like no other. The next sound heard is definitely not a peep. Rather it’s an uncontrolled blend of hysterical scream and high-pitched cry like no sound on earth. Think rabbit in a trap. In labor. With one stuck sideways. As a grizzly bear gnaws on its neck. Before the last word is out of my mouth, the little darling is in the throes of a wild tantrum. Everyone looks, some with disdain, some with sympathy. There’s nothing quite like it to make you feel like the worst parent in the world. Wanna live on the wild side? Take a three year-old to the grocery store, a little hungry, a little tired and say the magic word.
Trifecta: Week Twenty-Eight And now we’re back to the one-word prompt. This week, we give you: Wild (adj.) not subject to restraint or regulation; uncontrolled; also, unruly. Emotionally overcome;also, passionately eager or enthusiastic.