The world ended this evening around 7:00. You most likely didn’t realize it, but it did. It ended with a complete explosion of tears, leg flailing, and the all important throwing of stuffed animals.
I had already told my daughter this afternoon that we wouldn’t have a movie night. She’s been plagued with asthma episodes, has not been wanting to get out of bed, and had a soccer game this morning. All of that is a recipe for a trip to the ER for emergency breathing treatments while I’m waiting for her new prescription to kick in, and so I just wanted her to go to sleep at her normal time. I had told her all that, and she was fine with it until after dinner when she began pestering me and hoping I had forgotten that I had already told her no.
And really, it wasn’t that I had told her no to the movie night that upset her so much. It was the fact that I told her that he also didn’t have any popcorn. That’s what did it. That is what turned my 9 year old from a likable child with great comedic timing to a complete uber freak of a meltdown!
When it ended and the earthquake that centered in her room quieted, things were normal again. They were normal, that is, until she fell asleep and I wanted popcorn. Remembering that we didn’t have any, and being completely pissed off that we also didn’t have any apples, or candy, or chocolate, or chips, I got pissed off and wondered what the hell I was supposed to do without all those things! I’m the one who buys everything, and so I had to forage in the pantry until I saw my daughter’s left over Christmas M&Ms from my parents.
And you know what I did? I ate them! That’s right. I ate them because I’m a hideous beast who is most hated and never has movie night and never, ever has popcorn.