Do you ever wonder if...

...Mary Poppins had a bad day.

Do you suppose she ever wanted to snap the handle of her umbrella in half?

Stomp off to her room and slam the door?

Mix a little vinegar in with that sugar on her spoon?

Or, wonder why she went into the Nanny Business in the first place?

Well, I never did until yesterday morning when I was watching the morning news, and they showed a little tongue in cheek clip about how an adult looks throwing a two year's old temper tantrum.

I've got to say it looked pretty silly.  This lady threw herself on the floor of the coffee shop and kicked the counter, and her heels on the floor because the Barista didn't use soy milk in her drink.

Then, it showed her throwing everything helter-skelter off her coffee table because her wi-fi was not doing what she wanted it to do.

And finally, it showed her slamming her bed pillow into the furniture until the room was filled with white, downy  feathers.  Definitely bad behavior.

Now, normally, I would probably jump all over a clip like this, saying how it give license for kids to watch this, and figure 'well, mommy got away with this, so can I.'  After all, kids learn by watching their parents.

However, after a couple of days of hanging on (by a thread) to my 'Susy Homemaker, Mary Poppins' image myself, I got to thinking I would like to throw a temper tantrum, I think I just might feel a whole lot better.  Don't get me wrong, I can and do get angry, you've actually read me when I've been up on my soap box.  And, I do feel better once I've blown off some steam.

Still.

Something...

something has been missing.

I think I want to throw a tantrum, an honest to goodness, throw myself on the floor, scream and kick, hold my breath, turn blue kind of a tantrum.  I think that would make me feel pretty darn good.  I could do it here where Frankie, Zorro and CC would see my bad behavior.  But, I'd really like to do it in my driveway where everybody, including God would see me. 

And I would do that.

Except.

Either the police or a bunch of guys in white suits and a straight jacket would show up and haul my sorry A-- away. 

So, I'm going to down a spoonful of sugar, tuck the image of the woman writhing around on the floor of the coffee shop in the very back corner of my brain, and act like a grown up.

But....



some day.....some day.