EPIC Tantrum

Friends, your life is in a sad state of affairs when you are too embarrassed to go back to Wal-Mart.

If you've read my blog for any length of time, then you probably know who the culprit in this story.  Yes, Dr. Destructo himself, Mr. Josh.

Let me first preface this by saying that after his routine 3-4 morning tantrums, he was actually in a pretty good mood.  And he had had plenty of sleep the night before and a 2+ hour nap the day before.  Let me also say that I take Josh on errands all the time, and he's generally pretty good.  Oh, I get the regular whining and touching-of-things-that-should-not-be-touched.  But on the whole, he's a pretty good little shopper.

But not today.  Ooooooh boy, not today.  Halfway through my list he decided to start his epic tantrum.  In all honesty I can't remember what he got so upset about.  I think it had something to do with yogurt.

It started with the whining and the crying and the yelling, and then Josh broke all protocol and dove directly into the rolling around on the floor, screaming incoherently, and refusing to do anything but have his fit.  We were in the snack aisle.  (I had won a free bag of bagel chips!  Score!  Kind of!)  He started the rolling and the yelling and then he did something new: he decided to hang onto the bottom of the cart so that I couldn't move. 

Well, I could still move, but I didn't really want to finish my shopping with a three-year-old dragging along on the floor.  A girl has to have some principles.

He continued this off and on for five minutes while I walked up and down the aisle to grab a few more things, leaving the cart, with Cole placidly watching his psychotic brother, in place.  But finally I had to actually move the cart.

At this point I had a few different options:

1. Pick Josh up and carry him.  This would only be short term since it's quite difficult to carry a writhing three year old while pushing a cart.
2. Drag him along.  Like I mentioned before, not really an option.  Plus, he'd probably let go as some point and get run over.
3. Stomp on his fingers and run away, pitying any kidnapper who decided to steal the wailing demon child.
4. Pick him and Cole up and just leave the store.  But not really; I hadn't been grocery shopping in quite a while and really needed some food!
   
5. Gently pry his fingers off and briskly walk away, ignoring his horrible behavior knowing that he would eventually follow.

I chose five.  It was a wise move.  Well, inasmuch as that I was right - he did get up and follow.  Bellowing and crying all the while.  Every time I stopped the cart he would scream and roll on the floor and hang on the cart.  Sometimes he would change things up and run away and demand that I buy certain items - like the most expensive jar of peanut butter on the shelf.  Or a plastic banana hanger.  Or some shallots, which I actually did need but only put in the cart while he wasn't looking.

This continued for 15 minutes.  I got lots of looks from people.  Fortunately, it was early in the morning so it was mostly mothers with small children out.  They all gave me the "Hang in there, sister!" look of compassion.  But a few grumpy grandparents gave me the "Why don't you beat it out of him?" look.  One single guy looked at me and grinned a "And that's why I am never having children" look.

By the time we got to the check out he was louder than ever.  (Seriously, I had thought he would have slowed down by then.  Nope.)  I started to put things on the counter.  Josh ran away.  Towards the bananas.  So I had to chase him down, which was really an attractive sight, I'm sure.  A kind employee stopped him for me and refrained from giving me parenting advice.  (Which I've received before.  Never appreciated.)

This happened two more times.  On the third time I hoisted him up over my shoulder and carried him like a sack of potatoes, where he stayed until we had paid.  At this point I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.  I was on the verge of doing both, but wisely refrained, deciding we didn't need to add to the spectacle.

I paid, apologized to the cashier, and left the store. It seemed like everyone in there stared at us as we left.  They probably were. 

Which is why I can never go back to Wal-Mart again.  At least, not with Josh.

Oy.

So now we're home.  Josh was sentenced to his room, where is he now snoozin' away.  Apparently tantrums of that magnitude take a lot out of you.  Unfortunately, I have to wake him up in 20 minutes so we can go pick up Spencer.

Man.

If I were a drinkin' kind of gal, I would be sloshed by 5pm tonight.  But I'm not.  Instead I'm going visiting teaching, which is more spiritually uplifting and a lot better for my liver.