Oh the horrors.

There once was a girl,

Who had a little curl, 

Right in the middle of her forehead.

And when she was good,

She was very, very, good,

And when she was bad,

She was, OMG MY CHILD, YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE ENDURANCE OF THIS TODDLER, I really hope that her current stubbornness is a predictor of future scrappiness and peer pressure resistance, and perseverance in life and stuff because otherwise, JSDFJ#R#*()%$KWERM<!

 

All I really need to say about this lyrical interlude is that there was a certain incident in which my sweet and lovely daughter had a sustained temper tantrum, in public, FOR AN HOUR AND A QUARTER! at one of the busiest, hippiest places in this hippie Midwestern town. Highlights included raised eyebrows and judgment by childless organic soy-fiber wearing future attachment parents (SHUDDUP. YOU DON'T EVEN). Writhing around in the dirt; an attempt to flee into traffic; okay, several of those; tears, snot, screams, more writing in dirt; flinging of bodies onto the sidewalk; strangers averting their eyes as they diverted their path because a certain someone was lying upon the pavement, prone, flailing, and refusing to work her legs; a sustained 12 minute scream outside a patio where happy rainbow hippies where drinking quiet late afternoon beers; a pair of soggy shorts; a rage poop; and a stinger who had to help me drag my groceries and my child across the parking lot and into my car.

 

The tantrum continued the whole drive home, ending only when upon return to my parents' house,  I handed my girl, sans pantaloons, to her grandmother, and said, "here! She needs a bath! I'll be drinking a beer on the balcony." 

 

Might I reiterate that this all took place in public? And lasted an hour and a quarter? And because I insisted that my kid walk about 200 meters to the car? And that I suggested three times in an hour that she might want to go pee? And that I had the nerve to buy her a muffin for a snack? 

 

Anyway, there are two take-aways from this whole episode: first, if you have a two-year-old and you don't have a blog, you're wasting your life; second, if you have a two-year-old and no helpful grandmother, then I don't even know, here is a medal and all of my respect.