If you were in the environs of my children’s elementary school, say between the time of 5:15-5:45 this evening, then I owe you an apology, for that was my child screaming his unearthly howls in the depths of the elementary school book fair.
I left work early today because I was not feeling well, and I made it home for a nap before getting the kids from daycare. Thankfully when I had woken up I was feeling better, so after picking them up I agreed to take them to their school’s art show and book fair. I had already warned them that *if* we were getting anything from the book fair, it would be a book, and not useless, overpriced junk.
When we arrived, I was actually very impressed at the art show. It was “Under the Sea” themed and they had taken an entire classroom and converted it into a bright, exotic, undersea art display. There was no telling which of the small snails was C’s or which slithering snake belonged to my boy, but we were all impressed none the less.
After that, Big E showed us his classroom, and then we found our way to the book fair, along with about a hundred other people. I told them they could pick out one book each, but nothing expensive, and I had power of veto. C found 3 off the bat that she wanted and spent her time narrowing it down. Big E finally landed on a Mo Willems book, much to my delight, and Baby E grabbed an expensive, non age appropriate book with a toy attached. I told him that he couldn’t get that one, and if you have ever been around Baby E when he has his mind set on something, you can only half imagine the scene he then commenced. Diverting him to another book would not do. Only the one in hand would appease him. But since I have taken the task on to diligently mold a strong willed three year olds temper, I had to stand my ground. And so he screamed at me. In the middle of all those people he screamed and threw a fit only to be rivaled with the one at the dentist office a few weeks ago. Each time I tried to set him down, he darted towards the forbidden book, and so I was obliged to hold him as we stood in line to pay. Yes, I could have left and perhaps should have, but I had already agreed on the two books for the other kids, so we stood in line. And he yelled at me. And he fussed. He was altogether disagreeable. I felt the eyes of 40 parents staring me down, but the kind lady next to me shot me a glance of pity- the look only another parent can give you that has once stood in your shoes.
And so finally we paid and we left. By then Baby E had calmed down and we got to the van. Much to his disappointment, he was confined to his bed the rest of the evening, saving the moments he could sit at the table and eat with us.