The Tantrum Game
My son, Sebastian, is on the floor of Boots in Ramsgate, throwing a major strop and blowing raspberries at me. He’s also refusing to move, and I’m threatening him with all sorts of punishments to disguise the fact that I have a bad back and can’t physically drag him outside.
This whole thing started because I lost MY temper, but I was seriously provoked. The really sad part is that we were having an awesome day up until this point: we’d played in the park, done adventure games, explored the wilds of Ramsgate (well, okay, that bit down by the seafront where everyone looks like a character from Tin Tin). Here’s how it all started to go wrong:
“Sebastian – what sandwich would you like?”
“Egg and cheese.”
“You don’t like egg.”
“I do. I had it in a sandwich the other day, at nanny’s.” “Okay, well – there’s no egg and cheese.”
“Why not?”
“There just isn’t. There’s.....let’s see, here......egg mayo, egg and cress, cheese and tomato or cheese and ham.”
“Egg and cheese.”
“I just told you-“
“Take the egg from that one and the cheese from that other one.”
“You can’t do that, Sebastian.”
“That man is.”
I look over, and – sure enough – an old tramp is rooting through the sandwiches. He’s opened at least two boxes and is trying to get the filling out of one sandwich. As we stand there, gawping at him, the security guard turns up and hauls him away. Two assistants quickly remove the two boxes he’s touched, while a third cleans the floor. We just stand there in silence, as I’m trying to work out what sort of lesson I can draw from it in order to educate my son.
Bast says, “Is he in trouble?”
I nod. “Poor guy was really hungry. They’ll probably take him to the police station.”
“For wanting a different sandwich?”
“No, Bast. He was STEALING.”
“He wasn’t. He didn’t take it away. He was just making a different sandwich. I want egg and cheese.”
“Didn’t you learn ANYTHING from what just happened to that man? If we open those packets, the security guard will take us away.”
“He can’t: he’s outside with that man. It will be ages before he comes back.”
I’m so stunned by the truth of this statement that I immediately get very cross.
“RIGHT! Now I’m going to choose your sandwich for you. Do you want egg or cheese?”
“You said YOU were going to choose.”
“Just stop being cheeky and answer me.”
“Egg and cheese.”
“That’s IT! We’re leaving.”
“EGG AND CHEESE! EGG AND CHEESE!”
....and, with that, he collapses onto the floor and starts blowing raspberries at me. This goes on for a full ten minutes before the security guard comes back: all the guy does is fold his arms, and Bast leaps onto his feet and practically drags me out of the shop. On the way home, I tell Sebastian that he’s going to do what I tell him from now on, that all his privileges are revoked, and that he’s going to start doing things MY way.
When we get home, I make him an egg and cheese sandwich. He leaves half of it.
