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You know when you go shopping somewhere, and you hear that screaming child mid-tantrum about ninety seconds before you actually lay eyes on her? There she is, face down amidst a flurry of her own flailing limbs (and perhaps amidst piles of rumpled and scattered merchandise that she’s been pulling down and around, trying to get her parent’s attention). She’s pounding the floor with the toe-caps of her Kids Keds, hollering like she’s being burned at the stake.
Maybe her mom (or more rarely, her dad) is gently try to coax some some calm and quiet out of her, doing her/his best Neville Chamberlain imitation, trying to appease the unappeasable (if you give her more, she’ll only want even MORE more). Maybe her mom or dad is steps away, pretending s/he doesn’t know the child (Note to this parent: This tactic NEVER works. We all know that’s YOUR kid.). Maybe the parent is getting rough with the child, trying to physically subdue her (Should we call ACS? 911? Is it abuse or discipline?).
You try to walk away, but it’s like a really bad soap opera, or potato chips, or a train wreck: YOU JUST CAN’T STOP, in this case, WATCHING.
Eventually the child will wear herself out, dissolving into sobs that turn into hiccups that turn into gasps that eventually subside into sweet silence. This may not happen until long after she has left your corner of the world, parent in tow, or being towed by said parent.
Depending on how the exit is executed, it could be dramatic (BLOODCURDLING SCREAMS! THREATS!), melodramatic (tearful apologies and copious weeping, sometimes by both child and parent), or post-dramatic (everyone is too spent to craft a proper exit).

Can you see her and hear her in your mind’s eye and ear?

That child was my “inner child” today.
“Not my will, but Thine, be done” is NOT for sissies.


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