And it happened.
My four-year-old son threw the worst meltdown in the history of temper tantrums.
It was a Sunday afternoon. Everyone was happy after a fun-filled activity at a play school. I won a major prize from a raffle draw (which happens once in a blue moon) and I was looking forward to go home and spend the rest of the weekend on my bed reading about tea history in China.
But my son — my beloved whom I love with all my heart, the one for whom I will gamely give my last piece of bacon, the very son whom I carried with her twin sister for 36 weeks — turned into a ball of monstrosity and transformed into his own red version of The Incredible Hulk.
We were inside a toy store, a place he saw right after we came down a short flight of stairs from the second floor. He asked me if he could get in. I said “yes” but with the general rule: “You only get one toy each.”
But my dear son refused to follow the rules.
One by one, he picked up box after box of toys and told me — let me repeat that: TOLD ME — to pay for them.
He was furious, angry, frustrated, disappointed, entitled, demanding, abrasive. He wanted more than one toy and every time I tell him he can only have one toy just like his twin sister and baby brother, he looked at me with defiant eyes and said “no”, in the loudest voice he could muster himself to say.
I stood my ground even when the cashier told me to just buy the Iron Man die-cast because it was on sale.
I was tired and frankly, embarrassed.
But I tried to keep my cool and told the cashier I’m paying the three toys. They were overpriced, made in China items. Reading the product tags, I knew exactly where the factories were located. One was in Guangzhou for crying out loud… our very address in our second home in the Middle Kingdom!
I paid more than a thousand pesos for three toys… things that they don’t really need. By this time, my daughter was already on the ground, crying and whining like a mad fool because she was bored and wanted to go out. Ate Joy was with us the whole time but she was chasing Jeff Junior so her hands were quite full too.
My stubborn son refused to go out of the store. He insisted that I buy an entire set of toys featuring the Avengers. I reiterated my point and stormed my way out of the store. I won’t have anything to do with him.
That strategy often works. I walk out, the child follows. It never failed in the last four years.
But yesterday, its loophole was revealed.
Nicholas did not go out of the store even when I left… even when he saw Ate Joy, Antoinette and Jeff Junior leave.
He stayed right there… shopping for more toys.
I had to tell Ate Joy to please pick him up because I have no more energy to manage monster boys.
Oh… the narrative of what happened yesterday can fill the internet world with frustrated sighs and disappointed words.
The entire episode only lasted for 30 minutes but it was enough to zap the life out of me.
I badly wanted to spank my son and shake him by the shoulders to tell him to snap out of it. But I don’t do that. I will never do that.
I wanted to call my husband, who was alone in the house catching up on his video games. But I can’t call him because there is no mobile phone signal at Casa Ruffolo Uno.
It was tempting to go to the bathroom and cry especially when a woman told me to pick up my kid and just “give in to what they want, you have the money anyway.”
I had to cut her short and told her that the kid is my child — and she should keep her opinion to herself.
Because of what she said, my son continued “fighting” me. He found an ally in the woman. I wanted to slap the woman. But — sigh — I don’t do that either.
I don’t know how we ended up there. I just remembered we walked out of the mall and “landed” at a dimsum place.
We waited for the car to pick us up and bring us straight home. I was ready to cry by that point. I was physically tired, mentally exhausted and emotionally battered.
I looked at Ate Joy and she looked tired too.
She was exhausted too.
But she looked calm and composed.
I don’t know how she manages to keep her cool when my children are not hers. We’re not even blood related but she cares for them. She genuinely cares for them. I can see it in the way she plays with JJ. It is evident in the long minutes she spends with Antoinette to choose for the dress of the day. It was exemplified in the manner she handled Nicholas when he was being a filthy little toddler dipping his fingers inside a glass of juice.
I was standing there trying my best not to scream.
I love this boy even when he’s a crazy ball of fire. I guess it’s only love that made me survive and thrive in the world of tantrums. Without love, I would have sold him to the gypsies. They’ll probably love to have him in their houses.
Without love, it would be easy to just sell them out to the highest bidder.
Without love, I would have slapped him and called him the worst child ever!
The car finally arrived to pick us up a few minutes after we ate all of our food. I mindlessly inhaled my food. I can’t even remember how they taste.
The monster boy regained his sanity the moment the car’s door was opened by the driver.
He gave me a smile with a dimple.
He is so cute!
He told me he will sleep in the car.
Thank goodness!
