How To Lose Your Cool And Have It Go Un-Noticed

Today on the way home we needed to stop at the grocery store. I jammed the brakes hard enough to lock up the front tires and turned into the parking lot all of a sudden-like, and nobody was the wiser. But I'll let you in on a secret (just don't tell anyone). I told my Darling Wife this after my shopping was done, and she laughed her pretty head off (with me, not at me, thank you). She was in a great mood and had no idea she was pushing my button.

We were late getting home. Late getting home means late supper means late Bedtime Business which means late bed time for the Zoo. The Zoo by golly WILL wake up at The Crack of Dawn, regardless of how much sleep they got that night. If they go to bed late, they will be grumpy. Grumpy children means grumpy mommy means stress you can cut with a frikken knife already, ALL day long. This is the Iron Rule of Children Who Go To Bed Late, in case it sounds familiar.

So I wanted to go home ASAP. Problem: nothing to eat at the house* and it's supper time. Solution: stop at the store. We need eggs, bread, and milk**. Fine. I reluctantly made the turn away from the home stretch toward the store. My mind was set: I'll go in, speed walk to the three things I'm buying, pay and leave. Then she starts talking about needing baby food. I say no to baby food. She says she'll be coming inside the store in a tone that I recognized very well: she was about to dig in her heels just for fun and launch an argument*** with me, about nothing, in front of the children, while I was driving at high speed, at night, on a dimly-lit urban street . . . and I felt the top of my head getting ready to blow right off as I sat there behind the wheel. I didn't want to be freaking out driving down the road, so I JAMMED the brake pedal to the floor and headed for the shoulder of the roadway as I said "Don't argue with me, please!"

The world will never know what would have happened, what sort of epic freak-out might have scarred the children's psyches for life and sent my Darling Wife running in tears . . . thank God the first (of FOUR) entrances to the parking lot happened to be approximately exactly where Bad Robot was about to stop. My brain jumped tracks and my Awesome Driver Skilz Yo! kicked in on autopilot, and I turned in to the parking lot. By the time we got over the first (tall, scrapes the car at 14MPH) parking lot speed bump I was pretty much over it, and everybody was all smiles again.

Normally I am cool as a cucumber on the outside. This is about as big a hissy fit as I have thrown in the last 12 years or so. It is, however, very, VERY good for me that you people don't hear what goes on behind the mask.

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* I was right. There was a full meal worth of what I was thinking of preparing, but I went with her word when she said there wasn't enough left. Oopsy! LOL oh well that's okay dear!

** I had opened the last gallon of milk myself this morning. There was plenty of milk. I forgot.

*** By argument, I don't mean the kind where people get arrested and/or end up bloody. I mean the kind where she feels like wheedling a little bit to see if I will let her have her way. These are either only-mildly irritating or else with smiles all around, especially when I realize she is poking at me, and I call her on it, and she laughs and (as often as not) she gets chased, tickled, and released - still laughing.