It feels like we all need a little something today, so I thought I'd share a story. The moral of the story is threefold:
1. Kids can be jerks.
2. Sometimes there is absolutely nothing to be done but laugh.
3. It gets better.
Once upon a time, when I was still in my 30s, my older son was 3.5 (you can see where this is going) and his brother was a baby. I had the little guy strapped to me and had my older guy by the hand and we were on the subway platform waiting for the train (we lived in New York City at the time). Somehow my older son and I got into an argument about something, and it turned into the kind of argument you can only have with a 3.5-year-old on the subway platform with a lot of childfree over-educated strangers staring at you while you have a baby strapped to you.
Of course, because he was 3.5, I was unable to calm him down, so things were escalating when the train arrived. We stood clear to let the people off the train, and then we got onto the train, and the doors to the train closed, and just as the train started moving, my 3.5-year-old looked me straight in the eye, bent down, and LICKED THE FLOOR OF THE SUBWAY CAR.
Half the people on the car laughed, and the other half recoiled in complete revulsion. I was at a loss. It was diabolical genius on the part of my son: he'd never been told not to lick the subway, so he wasn't misbehaving, per se. But he knew it was going to send me over the edge. And it kind of did. That was probably the day I realized that some days I was really just along for the ride.
Flash forward eight years: That child has an incredible immune system and rarely gets sick. He easily navigates public transportation, even in new cities. And he likes to do things he knows will make me happy, like making me the cup of coffee in the picture up at the top of this post.
So. Some days you lick the subway floor, and some days the subway floor licks you. And it gets better.
Hang in there.