"I WANT A TREAT!" "TREAT! TREAT! TREAT!" I responded, "Sorry buddy, we'll go find a treat as soon as Mommy finds her stuff." At first I thought he had recovered, but then his arms started to flail and his body began to thrash and then the screams that would put any banshee to shame surfaced from that tiny little body. I quickly turned to him and corrected him. I gave him a warning, told him I'd find him a corner and that he would be getting NO treat for throwing tantrums. I didn't yell but was stern, in fact the next aisle over probably didn't hear me (I know they heard Baking Toddler.) I shot a look at the man standing a few feet from us. It wasn't a bad look, maybe apologetic and more likely a "he's two" kind of look.
|I want 'chocky' NOW!|