Namastè.
Kids do this adorable thing sometimes.
You have them out and about in their adorableeeeeee outfits, with their adorableeeeeee shoes, and they're just generally looking about as lovely as a BOG3 sale at Bath and Body Works.
...I took my kid to Wal-Mart today.
He was so cute in his little athletic gear. He really likes basketball shorts, and I really like not having to fight with him about getting dressed. It's one of those few win-win scenarios where toddlers are concerned. Plus, those elastic waistbands make potty time a real breeze. (The only thing more harrowing than a missed potty break is the guilt that sets in when the kid looks at you and says, "I didn't go in time, clothes hard.")
My son isn't on the spectrum. He doesn't have any cognitive deficit. Let's clear that up now, for the sympathizers and diagnosers.
Not a single health problem.
Why then, would he be throwing a fit?
He's two.
He's two, he's figuring out his space in the world, and--admittedly--he's just a wee bit of an asshole.
*gasp*
Yep, I totally said it. My kid is a little bit of an asshole.
Most two-year-olds are, and he's no different. He's learning to navigate this world on his own terms, and sometimes his own terms are loud, annoying, and cringe-worthy.
Getting back to this Wal-Mart run...
He hates Wal-Mart. He always has. Even as a tiny infant, as soon as we stepped into the store his entire little demeanor would change. He would become fussy. He would turn red and angry and I'd either have to nurse him or take him to the garden center area so he wouldn't feel so annoyed. (He's always loved looking at plants and stuff, even from a very early age. I study a lot of botany books and since he was usually in my lap, I'd read those books to him!)
On this particular run, my little guy was not thrilled. He had just woken up and had lunch, but he still wasn't feeling the whole errand thing. (I get it, little dude--I hate errands too.)
Something set him off.
"Mahhhhhhhhhhhhh-meeeeee."
Oh. Snap.
"I wanna gooooooo."
But I needed laundry detergent. That laundry pile was looking really ominous and what I cannot abide the sight of it anymore, because it insults me. Like seriously, the pile calls me names. *chuckle*
"Just a few more items, my Bud. Then we will share a bubble tea!"
"No tea. HOOOOOOOOOOME." Now his lip is trembling.
Needless to say, we didn't make it out without tears. He was really tired of being in the store, and I was set on my own agenda so I wasn't exactly considerate. (I'm a mom who puts kids first...when kids need to be put first.)
It wasn't a dramatic scene. (He's really laid back--and I'm really thankful because our girls are NOT laid back.) He was protesting, and crying.
A woman runs up to us. Like, half sprint from 50 yards, y'all. She legit zipped over to us prepared to comfort this mistreated little boy.
"Is he hungry? Does he need a nap?"
Now, before I get into the next scene, allow me to redeem myself. (But remember, your judgment of me says more about you than it ever could of me!) I am a mom who can and will accept help when it's needed. I don't martyr myself in the name of doing it all, and I don't shy away from letting someone else take the reigns. However in this case, the kid and I struck a deal--he would stay in his seat in the shopping cart while I finished up, and we would get the previously-refused bubble tea. Not bribery, but striking a deal. He wasn't being rewarded for "requiring" a deal, he was being rewarded for being a big enough boy to accept that while he didn't want to be in the store, it had to be done!
"No, he's fine." I kinda walked away a bit then after offering a smile.
"But he must be unhappy, look at that face!"
I didn't wanna hurt her feelings. After all, she totally sprinted over to us from 50 yeards because she saw my son's distress. If that ain't camaraderie, I don't know what is.
However, when she gave him a high five and then asked to take a picture with him, I got a little aggravated.
This is the part of this culture that I do not like, the reason I hope that if I ever go viral, no one actually remembers my face enough to recognize and consequently bug the living shit out of me in public. My husband and I are pretty private people. We don't do a ton of social media posts (aside from my blogging and the foods on my IG) and we certainly don't like our kids plastered everywhere. I dance a terse duality on the line between private person and public entity, and the value of my anonymity is never lost.
"No, he's not really a camera kid." I tried to deflect, although I was feeling pretty violated that she even thought it ok to ask. (But then again, at least she asked!)
"Just one quick shot."
At this point I just scoffed and walked off.
Interestingly enough, he had calmed down by now and was happily waiting for the boba tea. Which by now we both deserved, me because I'm an adult and can have tea whenever I want anyway but especially when I refrain from breaking my foot off in a violator's fanny, he because at two, what's cooler than getting boba tea?!
So...
Yes, my son is having a mid-store fit. NO, I don't want to be your viral FB/IG kindness post. 'K? Thanks.
Namaste!
-- Taye K.
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