One of these days, Mitchell’s going to remark to me that he was an awesome toddler. And I’m going to agree that, for the most part, he was awesome. He’s hilarious, he’s sweet, and he’s adorable. But I’m also going to show him this picture to show him that he could throw a temper tantrum with the best of them.
20 minutes. 20 minutes of screaming, stomping, and crying because he wanted to push the cart. Except he doesn’t really push the cart. Instead, he seeks out every single Minion-branded piece of merchandise and throws it into the cart. So for the past few shopping trips, he’s been banished to the cart. It’s really my fault that he chose this shopping trip to get angry about the arrangement. Just yesterday I remarked that, as many tantrums as he threw at home, at least he didn’t throw fits in public. But I forgot to knock on wood when I said it, so I jinxed it. And Ragu suffered the consequences. For some reason, absolutely no one bought a single jar of Ragu from 11:00 to 11:20 a.m. Huh. Who knows.