Ice Cream Man, I hate you.

It looks like she’s branding herself a loser, and today she was right.

You know that little ditty – I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream?  Welll, I lived it today and let me tell you something, …  it’s not so funny anymore.   I took the Tot to a Holiday craft show which didn’t have much craftiness about it, more like a Holiday “Made in China” show.   Anyway, it didn’t bode well when I had to employ stealth tactics to wrestle Tot into her sweater just to leave the house.  We wandered down the first row of booths when the trouble started.  Tot spied the ice cream wagon, and her attention did not waiver for the next day hour and a half.  She alternated between asking, crying, shouting and screaming for ice cream.  Many vendors took pity on me and tried to help, or maybe it was self preservation.  I tried a variety of methods to divert her focus.  Bait and switch with other dessert type samples, bright and shiny baubles, playing, scolding, bribing, and once we got back to the car, outscreaming her.  All to no avail.  The car alarm next to us did muffle her, but only momentarily.   Once she overcame her surprise that something was louder than her, she stepped up her efforts.   Oh joy.   Trapped in the car with a mad Tot.   My happy place was no where to be found.  But eventually the screams came in pulses, like labor pains.  I relished the breaks, and braced thtough the pain.

[ As I write, my little imp keeps stealing my power cord, and Bergylsnorpe keeps laying his head on my keyboard.  Can’t I just get a little peace and quiet? ]

When we got home, I walked the dogs solely to escape my daughter, though amazingly enough, once we got through the front door, the obsession suddenly ceased.   Maybe she sensed the danger of continuing but I doubt it.  Needless to say, I was ready to surrender her for bed by 5pm.   Mr.Tot put her to bed, since I had turned into a puddle.   You see, I’m a tad bit exhausted because I’m still spending half the night on Tot’s air mattress due to Tot’s nightmares.  You’d think she’d be more grateful.  But no.  Just wait until I am her nightmare!

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