Clareified

Where does the good go

Fodder for the ‘Crazy’ or Evil debate

I was at the drugstore last night with my mom and aunt.
And there was this kid.
He was about four, maybe three feet tall…but boy did he have lungs on him.
He had picked up an electronic drum set off the shelves and he wanted it.
Bad.
In fact, he said “MOOOOM. I WANT IT.”
Like fifteen times.
Then, his mom, making what I can only assume is a rookie mistake…except that he was four, his sister looked ten and their was a baby in the carriage…says “I’ll get it, if you behave.”
This quiets him for…let’s say 30 seconds.
“Now?”
“No.”
“I WANT IT. I WANT IT. I WANT IT.”
Tears are streaming down his face. He is breathing hard from the yelling and beads of sweat cover his entire little face.
The mom tried to take the drum thing away from him, but he yanked it back and threw himself on the floor.
Then the mom called his dad on the cellphone and she let him hear how the kid was acting, and then gave the kid the phone.
“It’s your father,” she said as sternly as an embarrassed person can be.
“Daddy?” he said still gasping for air, tears abating.
And then.
“NOOOOOOO. I WANT IT NOW, NOT ANOTHER TIME. NOW.”
He screamed and screamed and then threw the cell phone on the floor, where it landed with a clatter and then spun under the candy shelves.
Everyone in the store looked so annoyed.
Not me though.
It was a thing of beauty.
That kid was just pure unadulterated emotion. I think it sucks that we are expected to grow out of that.
It’s just so real.
I was away last weekend with Karol. It was 3 a.m., we’re in a WaWa in rural Pennsylvania. The store is filled to capacity. I am starving. I have just had plans of Atlantic City jaunting ripped away and, as I stood on line, gripping a receipt that I then had to turn in to get my sandwich, holding a Snapple that was getting closer to room temperature by the second, unable to talk, and coughing, I seriously just wanted to lose it.
Throw the Snapple down, go postal on the sandwich guy (in mime, of course) and stamp my feet until everything was just as I wanted it.
But…well, there were police. And people that I would probably see again. Oh, and I’m 27ish.
But man, a good ole feet stomping, fist shaking, top of my lungs screaming scene would have been sooo awesome.
Yeah, yeah…chalk one up for crazy.

One Response to “Fodder for the ‘Crazy’ or Evil debate”

  1. Emerald Says:

    Ah, fond memories of WaWa…besides being OLD and needing to behave like an adult, you also don’t want to piss off any food service people lest you bite into a spitwad in your sandwich (or worse).

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