I was in Fred Meyer a few weeks ago buying some oil for the car. In order to get to the “Miscellaneous Car Accessories” section of Freddie’s, you have to pass by the toys and very large amount of tacky post-seasonal merchandise. 

I came across a little boy screaming and crying because he wanted this truck…I mean…he wanted this truck so badly. His dad, who had his daughter in the shopping cart was saying in his firm grocery store voice, “Son, let’s go…now”

“But I wwwaaant it!”
“Son…let’s go…we’re not going to get a truck today…”

As the little guy sobbed and wiped his eyes, he eventually gave up - shrugged his shoulders and pooched his lips that painted a picture of an overwhelming pity that nearly ripped my own heart out. 

I’m not a fan of a child screaming over a toy - I usually assume they’re spoiled or something, but I fully understand that kids are supposed to like toys.
When I have kids someday, they’ll sit and pout and scream in the toy aisle because we’re not going to buy a toy…at least not on that day.

After I found the oil I needed, which always makes me nervous - somehow I assume if you buy a thicker oil, it’ll be like putting whole milk in your engine instead of…1% or something. I don’t know. I think in weird terms like that. Luckily, my car isn’t lactose intolerant.

Needless to say, I continued on my journey into the “food’esque” section of the supermarket. 

As I was walking, I spotted the man and his son in between one of the not so busy aisles [most likely where the curtains and rods are to be found..]
There he was, bent down on his knees with his left arm over his son’s shoulder, explaining why he wasn’t getting a toy today. That someday, they’d come back and get one…but it wouldn’t be this day…

I said to myself…”Good daddy..” Not sure why I said Daddy…maybe because I reverted to a child’s understanding of his father - A more, gentle term for a father - but this wasn’t my father and I was just walking to find my wife’s favorite face moisturizer cream. 

But it meant a lot to me — to see this dad crouching down to his sons level - placing his hands on him and explaining why they didn’t get a toy. 
It was so simple but resonated within me so much meaning and a much needed lesson in humanity. 

There’s this joke by Kat Williams [who is pretty bad, but at the same time, pretty funny - so the story goes..] He’s talking about a woman in the checkout line beatin’ her kid because he touched a bag of skittles, in which Kat jokes, “Don’t you beat your child! He’s 3 years old! He’s supposed to like skittles!”

Such a funny bit, but also, so true. We get upset when kids get loud. When a baby cries on an airplane, we think, “Oh Dear God” - but bless that mother or father’s heart. You think they want their child screaming and wondering why they can’t move within their specified 2 foot radius? They’re kids…It just makes sense. I do also understand, where discipline lies in the midst of tantrums - but this wasn’t the case.

But there’s this lesson I learned…and also what I saw was hopeful…
I put myself in the father’s position.
I put myself in the son’s position…
and both were equally justified,
and I’m so thankful that the father didn’t ignore his sons cries, but diagnosed it with words of affirmation.

And I’m sure, in the mind of parents, “Oh, just you wait Josh…it’s never that easy” - I don’t know. You could be right - but I know how it is, to be dismissed by a father, or to not understand the reasoning behind a “No”, maybe as a kid, I wouldn’t have understood, but I think we underestimate kids. Maybe…just maybe. 

As I stood in the pharmaceutical aisle with my phone jammed between my shoulder and ear, asking Hannah where this little green bottle would be, I was well aware that I was learning. 

What a gorgeous and heartbreaking humanity. 
I’m so thankful to be a part of it - especially when we don’t get what we want.