When Things Get Out of Hand

We were in the mall. I had just purchased 2 dresses and a jacket for Bella. Grandma had just purchased a Passover/Easter dress and a bikini for Bella. Then we went to Play Land while Grandpa shopped for a suit.

After 2 head-bonks at Play Land, we headed out to find Grandma and Grandpa, which meant taking the elevator the 1 floor to the next level. For those who have been reading since September, you may remember Bella’s tumble down the escalator. She still refuses to get on one. Next, we had to weed our way past a DJ and a gaggle of women in black t-shirts and too much make-up shoving cheap flyers in my face about Paris Hilton’s Can-Can. “OhGodNo!” was all I could say.

“I’m hungry. Can I have a cookie?”
“Yes, after we get grandma and grandpa.”

Now, standing at the cookie counter she points to a giant pizza style slice of cookie coated with frosting.

“No. But you can have any other cookie.”
“I want that cookie.”
“No. It’s too much sugar, and it is too messy.”

The crying starts. Grandma and I look at each other and in unison state, “Let’s go.”

But Bella will not give up so easily. She grabs the back of my coat and digs in her heels. I spin around and pick her up. She begins flailing. Her little arms are waving about in an energetic pumping of circles. She’s trying to fly back to the cookie! I just know it. However, the legs are kicking. She must be trying to swim back to the cookie. She is entirely too tall and heavy for me to carry this child of perpetual motion in any graceful manner. Still, the gaudy gadflies push their fliers in my face as we parade through. Are they serious? How many spoiled children do I need at the moment? This is when my father steps in, thank god. He spins around takes Bella into his arms and marches to the mannequin display in the purse department. He sits her down, “Time out,” he declares. All I can do is think back to my own childhood when my cousin Joey, my younger brother Michael, and I manage to take down a pair of mannequins, which is only further, complicated by my mother and grandmother’s ill attempts to repair the damage while laughing. Luckily, Bella has stopped flailing and does not touch the mannequins.

It was nice to see how many people stopped to approach her thinking she was a lost child, till realizing she was flanked by three adults. The expressions on their faces moved from concern to amused camaraderie. The time was up, she was quiet and apologetic. I was thankful for my Dad.