Tantrum

Oh my, was this monstrous.

It was lunch time. We were on our way home from picking Charlie up from school, and I just needed 3 items at the store. Three. I thought we could run in, get them, and then get home. Oh, will I never learn.

I think Johnny needed to go pee. Heck, we probably all needed to go pee.

Anyway. We had not yet made it into the store. Johnny was not cooperating. I kept my cool. I gave him choices. I gave him to the count of three. I tried to make it work. He would not work with me. Just to give you an idea, some of his not cooperating took the form of scratching my face ruthlessly. I have the marks to prove it. Finally, I threatened that if he didn't do what I needed him to do, we were going to go home.

He didn't. So, I announced that we were going home. And I don't really know how Johnny felt about that because now it was Charlie's turn to freak out.

Oh. My. He freaked. Screaming and screaming that we were not going home. Hanging onto the cart. Pushing me, pulling me, pulling the cart, trying to pull Edmund (who was in the cart and later in my arms), oblivious to the cars in the parking lot or his proximity to them. More screaming.

And guess what? I didn't budge (though it did take me quite a while to get them to get in the van and then get in their seats).

We went home. We ate lunch. We went to the bathroom. Then, even though neither of them wanted to go back, Charlie and Johnny had to go to the store with me to help me get those three items. Those poor little boys.