Well I guess I should have known it was inevitable. Noah can no longer be taken shopping. He's just become too aware of toys and he now refuses to give them back. Yesterday we went to Bed, Bath, and Beyond to look for a gift. We saw a stuffed animal that is actually a speaker you plug into a MP3 player. We thought it would be perfect to plug into his car DVD player so he can hold the animal with the sound coming out instead of all of us having to listen to the Backyardigan's. I enjoy the Backyardigans as much as any adult but you can only hear 'Riding the Range' so many times before losing your mind.
Well of course Noah wanted to hold the frog one. Then he wanted the monkey one. Then he wanted another frog. Jenna said 'No.' She didn't scream it. She didn't pinch him as she said it. She didn't yank him up with a fire brand by his big toe. Of course, you never would have known that from his reaction. For the first time in a store, we became 'those parents.' People were leaning out of the aisles to see what we did to make our child scream and cry with such intensity. So of course we did what a 12 yr. pediatric occupational therapist and what a 8 yr. child psychologist would do in our situation. We gave him the other damn frog.
Then we started this new game of walking around the store and pointing stuff out to Noah to distract him while Daddy reached into the cart and secretly removed a stuffed animal speaker. This worked until we got to the checkout and he was holding onto the last frog for dear life since he realized the others kept mysteriously vanishing. I knew he was suspicious by the way he was cutting his eyes at me. I just whistled and kept pushing the cart. At the checkout, Jenna tried to cut a deal with him by offering him a different toy. It worked sort of. He threw down the frog and wanted her to pick him up. She just wasn't quite quick enough to pick him up and put down the floppy chicken before he got his grubby little fingers on it. So she walked around the checkout aisle while I explained to the man that no, we don't want this frog thing but please check my other stuff out.
I wrapped up the transaction and braced myself for the inevitable confrontation with a boy and a chicken. We locked eyes as I approached. Jenna had this helpless look on her face I hadn't seen before. I saw his grubby little fingers turn white as he grasped the nasty little thing with all his strength knowing how toys had a bad habit of jumping ship in this store. I thought about asking him for the thing, but of course I already knew the answer. I thought about pleading my case that it is without a doubt the ugliest toy I've ever seen, not to mention its probably tearable latex which can't be good for 19 month olds to possess. I thought about a lot of approaches, but then I did what I've seen countless other parents do when they are in a store and are 'those parents' with 'that kid.' I took it from him, handed it to the nice lady at the door who doesn't get paid enough to deal with 'those parents' and then hightailed it to the car before the other shoppers could find out the answer to the question, "I wonder how loud of a scream a 24 lb. mammal can make when betrayed by a parent?"
Well of course Noah wanted to hold the frog one. Then he wanted the monkey one. Then he wanted another frog. Jenna said 'No.' She didn't scream it. She didn't pinch him as she said it. She didn't yank him up with a fire brand by his big toe. Of course, you never would have known that from his reaction. For the first time in a store, we became 'those parents.' People were leaning out of the aisles to see what we did to make our child scream and cry with such intensity. So of course we did what a 12 yr. pediatric occupational therapist and what a 8 yr. child psychologist would do in our situation. We gave him the other damn frog.
Then we started this new game of walking around the store and pointing stuff out to Noah to distract him while Daddy reached into the cart and secretly removed a stuffed animal speaker. This worked until we got to the checkout and he was holding onto the last frog for dear life since he realized the others kept mysteriously vanishing. I knew he was suspicious by the way he was cutting his eyes at me. I just whistled and kept pushing the cart. At the checkout, Jenna tried to cut a deal with him by offering him a different toy. It worked sort of. He threw down the frog and wanted her to pick him up. She just wasn't quite quick enough to pick him up and put down the floppy chicken before he got his grubby little fingers on it. So she walked around the checkout aisle while I explained to the man that no, we don't want this frog thing but please check my other stuff out.
I wrapped up the transaction and braced myself for the inevitable confrontation with a boy and a chicken. We locked eyes as I approached. Jenna had this helpless look on her face I hadn't seen before. I saw his grubby little fingers turn white as he grasped the nasty little thing with all his strength knowing how toys had a bad habit of jumping ship in this store. I thought about asking him for the thing, but of course I already knew the answer. I thought about pleading my case that it is without a doubt the ugliest toy I've ever seen, not to mention its probably tearable latex which can't be good for 19 month olds to possess. I thought about a lot of approaches, but then I did what I've seen countless other parents do when they are in a store and are 'those parents' with 'that kid.' I took it from him, handed it to the nice lady at the door who doesn't get paid enough to deal with 'those parents' and then hightailed it to the car before the other shoppers could find out the answer to the question, "I wonder how loud of a scream a 24 lb. mammal can make when betrayed by a parent?"
