I was tired. I'd been away from home for two days. Gabe wouldn't nap away from home. I'd spent six hours walking around the Mall of America amusement parking carrying Gabe. I'd spent more than an hour walking around Cabela's holding Gabe. He weighs twenty-six pounds and it's carry or chase.
I was tired. I'd been stuck in traffic and had been late for Aunt Susie's annual meeting. I'd been in a vehicle for more than eight hours with our youngest half and still had a few more to go. I had given three warnings in 30 minutes to "stop screaming" (even when it's play it's piercing). I was helping Aunt Susie out of the van for a bathroom break and Gabe was trying to escape.
I was tired. I was calling for help. Gabe was diving out the door to me. I was calling again. No one was answering. Susie was waiting. I was repeating myself. I was getting frustrated.
So what did I do? How did I graciously, effectively, and with seasoned maturity handle the situation? I lost it. I lost my cool.... completely. No patience, no tenderness, no longsuffering. I yelled, "Fine, I'll just walk the rest of the way home!" And, right there in the parking lot, for good measure I stamped my foot. Everyone shaped up immediately. I think I just shocked them into it.
Tired or not, I still cannot believe I stamped my foot.