Have you ever had one of those mornings? You know the ones where your kids are literally driving you insane? Let me give you a hypothetical situation.
You have just arrived home from vacation. You have a laundry pile that reaches the ceiling. You have a stack of bills and mail to be sorted through. You have just received a large Mary Kay order, and as you open it, you realize you have ordered multiple wrong items. You have just received an email from your employer that says you must go get a TB skin test RIGHT NOW because you were supposed to have one by 4/30, even though no one told you. You need basically everything at the grocery store. And because your realtor did an open house while you were gone, there is a lot of stuff that is out of place or missing in your home right now. Oh yes, I forgot, you have 2 (hypothetically) hyperactive and hysterical three year old boys climbing on you, screaming at you and generally demanding your attention.
So, in this (totally fictitious) example of a morning you MAY have experienced at some point in your life, you pay your bills, try to call Mary Kay to rectify the situation while being cut off multiple times, start the laundry, and load the children up to head to the doctor’s office to get your TERRIFYINGLY LATE TB test. Because your children are complete heathens and have no idea how to act in public, they throw themselves face first out of the chairs in the waiting room, run screaming laps around and around, sing Thomas songs at the top of their lungs. You cannot decide what would make a bigger scene–what is already happening or you snatching their arms out of socket. You try not to make eye contact with the embodiment of your former life–the well-dressed pharma rep who is sitting there as well. She is trying not to gawk and is obviously planning her own immediate sterilization (who could blame her?). You make threats, you point out the corners they will have to sit in. You finally get the blasted TB test, (which you will have to make an extra trip back on Thursday to have the darn thing read) and then your children run ahead of you, opening the office door and go straight to the parking lot, running willy nilly toward certain peril or death. You lose it and scream, “THAT’S IT!! NO COOKIES FOR YOU WHEN WE GET TO PUBLIX!!!!”. I mean, you might do this, if you were a bad mother.
You get to the store and deny them cookies (and balloons!!), or you would if you were having such a day. The cart you end up with doesn’t have functioning seatbelts (of course it doesn’t) and that allows them to bash into each other and dangle precariously off the side. They are generally ill-behaved and before you even make it to the check out line, you have already banished one of them to the corner immediately upon your arrival home.
So assuming you have ever had a morning like this, you poor things, as you are strolling through that grocery store, do you tend to feel entitled to buying yourself a little treat? You know, something that is just yours, that you can enjoy when the crazy little monkeys finally collapse into their nap.