A Notable Talent

Don't let the innocent expression fool you!Our eldest son (hereinafter known as ES) had a world class talent.World class.If it had been an event in the Olympics, he'd have taken home the gold.But there wasn't.And he didn't.Maybe I should explain . . .ES was born with the ability to throw a tremendous, colossal, stupendous, prodigious, enormous, fantastic, howling, mind-blowing tantrum.I know that many children do.Even some adults.But no one has ever done it quite at the same level.And he saved his best performances for when we were in public.Usually in the toy section of the local department store.Sigh.When he was three, he gave his most memorable performance.Well, I certainly can't forget it . . .He wanted a toy.I can't remember which one, but he wasn't getting it.The family budget was already suffering chills and fever.Any unnecessary purchases would have surely sent it into a coma.We started to move away from said toy.ES realized that his begging and pleading had come to naught.He dropped to the ground.And began to flop around like a landed fish.Then the screams started.Ear-shattering. Air raid worthy.Now, my Husby and I had learned that that proper way to handle a tantrum was to just keep walking.Which we did.To this point, it had never worked.We discovered that ES could flop and scream AND keep up with his moving parents.See?Skill and talent.But this day was a little different.This day, we had unexpected . . . help.As we ducked around the corner, and before ES could start after us, an elderly gentleman walked up to our writhing boy and stood there, looking down at him.ES finally realized that someone was standing beside him.He opened his eyes.To see a perfect stranger.“I guess you'd better come with me,” the man said.Tantrum instantly forgotten, ES scrambled to his feet.“MooooOOOOMMMMM!”His father poked his head around the corner.ES ran to him and grabbed him about the knees in a grip fuelled by three parts fear and one part . . . okay, four parts fear.My Husby silently looked at the man.Both of them smiled.And just like that, ES’ public tantrums were finished.Oh, he still treated us to private performances, but never again were we humiliated in public.We often think of that man.A father?Grandfather?Whoever he was, his wisdom . . .. . . and timing . . .Were one of the greatest blessings of our parenting years.I wish we could tell him.