When I walked in I heard it. It was permeating the store. The sounds of an over-tired screaming child. It got louder as I made my way to the baby section (after walking through the not kid section). It was a child. A child in an extreme meltdown for a pair of shoes that were too small and a mom trying to reason. SCREAMING child who is done. Granted, I judge this. I judge that instead of high tailing it out of there, she is trying to reason. I "get it" now. I mean, I get that you want to keep doing what you're doing. I get that you have hope that they will suck it up and you can enjoy your shopping. But they won't. She's tired. She was finished. And then she was interfering with my chatty chats with my friend while shopping my mecca. My sleep book calls that "over-tired." It also tells me that I should put my child down "drowsy, but not asleep" (which is kind of how I feel MY sleep is), but he passes out when I get him home in the afternoons. It's adorable. (less adorable that he's been waking up from his afternoon nap after 30 mins and talking then I go in to make sure he hasn't poo'd himself and he does the big huge open mouth silent cry. By silent I mean silent at first and then a wail. Then I judge myself for not putting him to sleep drowsy.)
But he's so cute. And it won't be cute when I'm rocking him to sleep when he's 18 and wearing a jonjon with a whale on it. I think at 15 it just turns to sad.