Last night, however, was a different story. A fun, but then dramatic, temper tantrum kind of a story. Molly and I are alone for a few days, while Jason is in Dallas for a work convention. A few of my coworkers were gathering for all-you-can-eat sushi and I didn't want to miss out. So instead of hiring a babysitter and turning a $25 dinner into a $50 dinner, I decided to bring Molly along.
The night started out great. Molly was a well-behaved little charmer and I made sure I was prepared with fruit, teddy grahams, peanut butter, and stickers to keep her happy and occupied.
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| Chopsticks |
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| More wasabi, please! |
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| Hanging out with the crew. Molls, me, Lucy, Syed, Ji, Mike, and Greg |
Unfortunately, the good vibe didn't last. Molly eventually got her hands on a tube of hand cream from my purse, and it was all downhill from there. Molly wanted the cream. I didn't want her to have the cream, but was having a hard time getting it away from her. Whining turned into tears, which then turned into a full breath-holding silent, then not-so silent, temper tantrum. At a sushi restaurant. With my coworkers. What was I thinking?
Needless to say, we were out of there as fast as I could throw everything in my bag and get Molly fastened in her stroller. Of course, the little flirt had to high five and fist bump all of the boys in between tears on her way out, which was cute, but not cute enough to save me from total embarrassment.
It occurred to me, as we were walking home, that this was just one of the first of what will probably be many mother-daughter blow-ups. Molly will want something that I don't want her to have. I'll have my reasons. She won't understand them. And we end with the cry that breaks my heart, "Daaaaa daaaaaa!!!"
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