grocery shopping
She looks at me, eyes pleading, and for a split-second I consider saying she can have them, but then I remember she's allergic to them and eating them can kill her, so I have to say no.
Screaming.
Crying.
Foot stomping.
"I'll be sad if you get sick," says me, explaining.
"And you'll be even sadder if I run away!" says she, not caring.
"Not really," mutters me under my breath, for this is the tenth such episode in five minutes.
The woman to my right gasps in horror. The woman to my left laughs heartily.
I wonder which one of them is a parent.
Screaming.
Crying.
Foot stomping.
"I'll be sad if you get sick," says me, explaining.
"And you'll be even sadder if I run away!" says she, not caring.
"Not really," mutters me under my breath, for this is the tenth such episode in five minutes.
The woman to my right gasps in horror. The woman to my left laughs heartily.
I wonder which one of them is a parent.
4 Comments:
Oh, the mommy? Definitely the one on the left.
That one on the right? Yeah - light a candle that she's not a social worker with DSS.
And I? SO hear ya, baby.
xo
Ten hissy fits in five minutes. Ten. I love the child madly and wait anxiously for the day she uses her powers for good.
Ten hissy fits. In five minutes.
LOUD hissy fits.
That girl.
I really can't imagine where she'd get that from.
*bats lashes*
That girl.
Indeed.
xo
*snort* I can see the scene right in front of me. Oh, can I ever see it.
i
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