Make. It. Stop.

Alrighty. It's cold and rainy (not snowy) and I had a long day at work. And my head was hurting. But I had to go to Michael's for one little thing. And the second I walked through the door, I heard this little girl crying. Wailing. Having a meltdown. The closer I got to my aisle, the louder she got. I passed by the entire family. Mom scanning the rows of products, totally oblivious. Little son wandering around. Dad holding offending girl, softly cajoling her.

And this is where I got mad. The girl wasn't hurt. I looked for blood. Because the way she was carrying on, I felt sure a finger must be severed or something. The dad was trying to reason with her. But she just got louder. I'm not kidding you, this went on for more than 10 minutes. And I know it was fake because the less attention she got, the louder she got.

Now, I don't have children, but I can't imagine that I'll let my kid pitch a fit like that for more than two seconds before we're out the door. There were two adults. Why didn't someone take her out to the car?

I'm pretty sure, too, that I won't have that little chip that makes a parent unaware of their child's annoying screaming.

And just when I remembered my resolution to be a nicer person, reasoning in my mind that perhaps, just maybe, that little girl truly had a reason to be behaving the way she was, the cashier looked at me, rolled her eyes, and said, "It's time for them to go."

Amen.