Crazy Train

To ensure the sanity of a household, it is necessary to have one parent who maintains a calm, reserved, level-headed composure during times of stress.

On Black Friday, I assumed this role. Alex played The Crazy.

In his defense, there comes a time when every parent lets out The Crazy. As said individual, nothing you say or do makes sense but by-God a point must be proven so you push forward and teach your child a lesson... no matter how many people begin to stare.

Around 10:00am on the busiest shopping day of the year Alex and I decided to take our 23-month old daughter to Toys R Us. There have been many {MANY} stupid decisions I have made in my life.

None compare to this.

We toss ourselves into the wave of bodies flooding the store. I hear myself promising to grab "one thing" and we'll be out in "just a minute". Honestly I thought "one thing" and "just a minute" were going to be true statements. Did I accidentally stuff hallucinogenic drugs into my turkey the night before? What was I thinking?

Our first clue should have been the big blue arrows taped to the floor. These arrows indicated the direction the check-out line would follow.... and they began at the front door. Not to be discouraged we quickly navigated through the front half of the store and retrieved our intended purchase. Yet somehow our cart had already become full. Several other items had crept into our blue buggy because the term "sale" is synonymous with "sub-consciously-grab-whatever-you-can-and-throw-it-in-the-cart". Alex and I glanced at each other sheepishly and put back the extra toys.

It was at this moment a giant box of hula hoops became visible. To our surprise Addie reached out and shouted, "Loo-Loop! Please!" This is a child who rarely ever gets new toys. Birthday. Christmas. Garage-sale bargains. That's it. She's fine with it, since she knows no different. With Christmas only a few weeks away, we figured 'Why not?'. It's a $5 piece of circular joy. I took it out of the box and handed it to her. She toddled away happily, carrying the toy at just the right height so that she ran into everything.

By this time Alex was done shopping. He wanted the fastest route to the shortest line, no passing go, no picking up an extra game of Monopoly. So what does he do? Grabs the hula-hoop tosses it and Addie into the cart and sprints to the register. The next few moments are a blur. Hula hoops and hands began to fly. An ear-splitting scream silenced all of aisles 3, 4 and 5. In the middle of it all lay my daughter kicking wildly, salivating like a rabid animal, and my husband insisting Addie stop crying "this instant". He even had the shaking finger point stance going on.

Mortified that I had to admit I was related to this, I walked up to the scene to offer assistance. Addie quickly settled down and agreed to keep her hula hoop in the cart. I asked Alex if he could retrieve the hula-hoop he'd flung clear across the store. Begrudgingly he complied and brought back the toy. But wouldn't let Addie touch it.

Side note: Is it written into the DNA of men that as soon as they have a child they become children themselves? You just saw this kid have a nuclear meltdown over this hunk of BPA-infested plastic. You're really going to tease her now? Another deafening shriek ensued. {where did she learn that?!} He insisted "See? She's being a brat. We're not buying the toy". His intention was to teach her that just because she screams does not mean she gets what she wants. Little did he know I was about to start my own round of screaming too.

But like I said earlier, one of you has got to be the cool cucumber. I gathered my two children plus one hula hoop and ushered everyone through the line and to the car. I smiled as people passing glanced at us, silently thankful that their child {and husband} were not The Crazies.