An Appology is in Order

...for all the parents I laughed at, scoffed at, and snarled at over the years. 

For all the times I wondered what the hell you did wrong to have your children behave like wild animals in a public place, I am so sorry... 

For those that I called horrible parents under my breath while walking past your tantrum-throwing little brats, I am so sorry... 

For all the dirty looks I gave you while you stood by and did nothing to stop the shrill screams emitting from your little darlings, I am so sorry...

And for all the times I had sworn my future children would never act that way, I hang my head in shame.

Punky's dad suggested we get the weekly grocery shopping done tonight...his only day off this week.  I would've have preferred a quiet night at home, but agreed nonetheless.  Punky and I had gone shopping alone the last few weeks because of his work schedule.  Rather than waiting till Saturday and facing that task again, I opted for tonight.

So, with Punky's dad tackling the grocery portion of the store, I thought she would enjoy walking around with me instead of being stuck in the cart like she has been the last several weeks.  We made our way through the baby department, and the shoe department, and electronics without much incident.  She touched a few things, pulled a shirt off the rack, and dropped bottle of baby shampoo.  No harm done.

Then we headed to the toy department.  No shopping trip is complete without at least a quick stop there.  Besides, Santa needs ideas for Christmas.  If something on the shelf caught her attention, I'd have a clue what to put on his list.

We took our time meandering up and down the toy aisles.  We looked at baby dolls, bikes, and tons of musical light-up toys that all basically do the exact same thing as the ones she has now.  She hugged a few stuffed animals and pushed all the buttons on the toys she could reach.  We finally made it to the last aisle and I didn't gain a single idea for Santa.  Sigh.

Anyway, the last aisle was full of Punky's favorite things: books, balls, and bubbles.  I'd no sooner grab one toy out of her little patties, and she'd grab another.  It would've been fine, none of the things we breakable, but lucky for us there were other people shopping in the same aisle.  And Punky found it totally amusing to whiz balls at them.  And she has one hell of an arm.

In defense of my perfect little angel, I have to say they started it.  She dropped a ball and it innocently rolled their direction.  One of them tossed it back...and so the game began.  Of course, Punky didn't understand that they weren't there to play ball with her and she kept lobbing balls at them even after they stopped returning them.  I was left to chase after random balls rolling down the aisle which left her the perfect opportunity to grab and throw more.  With some creative maneuvering, I finally managed to get the situation under control and I told Punky it was time to go find Daddy.  In other words, time for her tiny hiney to sit in the cart for a while.

She apparently got that hidden meaning and immediately threw herself down on the floor.  When I tried to pick her up, she made her little body as stiff as a board and did everything in her power to escape my grasp.  Then she started whining and shaking her head "no" for all she was worth.  Then came the flailing arms and kicking legs.  When I finally managed to pick her up, the tears came.

In reality, the entire tantrum episode probably lasted a mere fifteen seconds.  But it seemed like a lifetime because I knew they were there.  Other people in the store.  Staring at me.  Rolling their eyes.  Giving me that disapproving head shake.  Wondering what I screwed up to have such a little brat.  Thinking I'm a horrible mother.  Swearing they would never have kids that act like that in a store.

I wanted to keep my head down and get the hell out of there but I glanced up just in time to see her.  A mother with a baby in her cart and three other little ones in tow.  Brave woman.  She gave me a been-there-done-that sympathetic smile and a nod that seemed to imply it happens to the best of us.  Then she quickly turned her attention back to her own pack of wild monkeys who were attempting to scale the shelving.

I guess it doesn't matter how good a parent you are, all bets are off the minute the little shits start thinking for themselves.  I'm sure there are many more embarassing public moments to come.  No worries, I can always pay her back when she's a teenager and terrified that I will embarass her in front of her friends.  A certain potty picture comes to mind.