Carolyn spilled some juice on the floor a few mornings ago. I was out running and Steve yelled at her a bit because she was goofing around and not paying attention. I know. How dare she?
Anyway, she was really upset by this and started crying. Then she requested, "Don't tell mommy."
Ouch. Am I really that bad. Steve said he almost didn't tell me because he knew I'd feel bad. But he also thought it was really funny.
Yeah. Ha-flippin'-ha.
I do have a bit of a temper. It's usually reserved for those who know me best, because God forbid a stranger know what a jackass I am. But the other day, I even yelled at a stranger. An election volunteer.
This is so uncharacteristic it's hard for me to explain Steve's glee at my sudden outburst (which, by the way, was completely justified because she was demeaning me and I hadn't even asked for her help), which I guess sent the lady into a series of "Um... well... Um... Wa-wa-wa-what" responses. I have no idea what happened, because all I saw was a white-hot flash of anger and then Steve smiling at me.
I don't lose it very often. Long lines at the grocery store, a rude postal worker or waiting too long for the check at dinner very rarely even register. But I don't know what to say — there are some behaviors I just won't tolerate.
This includes the girls demanding food/my attention/a certain toy right this second. Or Carolyn sticking her fingers in other people's food. Or Penny hitting her sister in the back of the head.
Maybe I'm becoming a real jerk. Who knows. But I do know I'm semi-grateful that Carolyn wants to hide things from me. I think a healthy dose of fear is good for children.
And election workers.
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