I’d see that kid in the
restaurant howling, rolling on the floor or putting all the sauces into the jug
of water, and I’d think – Phew, what a spoilt kid that is! Can’t those parents
get him into shape? That is – until Saturday. Which was a ground-breaking (and
hide underground), life-changing (and crumbling), face-reddening Saturday.
I faced my first tantrum from Niks.
And all over a choco lollipop that his brother got which he wanted. And to my horror – all of a sudden, I had a 4
1/2 year old mass of pouring tears, sobs at a volume louder than the local
loudspeaker’s, and a non-stop series of heart-wrenching “Mama, pleeeeease,
pleeeeeease!” Aargh!
In the middle of a public space.
These are the looks I got:
- What a hard-hearted mom. Can’t she give the kid what he wants?
- What a useless mom. Can’t she give him a slap?
- Thank God that’s not my kid!
- Should I call the child services? Is she kidnapping that kid?
A kind looking lady came up with
a wrapped toffee as a peace offering to Niks. He howled louder, while I barked
at her to back off.
Finally, like a little cloud, he
exhausted his water supplies. The tear ducts ran dry. Red-nosed, he ended his
hunger strike, and vehement demands, and went back to eating what he had been
given, and in a minute or 2, forgot all about it, and began to laugh
uproariously at some joke the other kids cracked!
Sigh! If only all hunger strikes
could end so amicably!
Learning : Niks may or may not have learnt his lesson. But I
have learnt mine. ‘That’ spoilt kid? People in glass houses should never throw
stones. In fact, what are people with 4 ½ year old kids doing in the glass
houses in the first place?
