The other day we were shopping at WalMart as a family and Emma had to go to the restroom. I took Emma and while we were there we ran into a Screaming Mother. She screamed at her kids that they were taking too long, she screamed at her kids that they needed to hurry, she screamed at her kids that she wished she had left them in the car, she screamed at her kids that she wished that she had never brought them at all. Before she got to the part where she screamed that she had never had them to begin with, she left the restroom.
Feeling morally superior, I calmly waited for Emma, helped her wash her hands, helped her dry her hands. We held hands as we walked through the store and looked for the rest of the Cunningham Clan. Look at us, holding hands, being morally superior to all you crazy Moms.
While we were looking for soccer gear, Garry got sick. He had to run for the restroom and I was alone with my three girls. Emma wanted to look at bikes. Macey wanted to look at the 'Princess Stuff'. Molly wanted to be anywhere but there. It was hard to keep them under control as we waited and waited.
By the time Garry got back, I was the Screaming Mother! Get back in the cart! Get back here! Put that down! Molly, stay here! ARGH!
It's good to not judge. Because I think that we are all about 15 seconds away from being a wee bit crazy.