So yesterday we…

- Rode the “muni train” (as Quinn likes to call it) to downtown to meet up with some friends visiting from Southern California. Quinn LOVES to ride the muni train. Especially when we go all the way downtown and thus underground into a tunnel.

- Hopped on the F Market street car and went to Pier 39. Quinn loves this one too. In fact, he loves all manner of public transportation.

At Pier 39 we…

- Saw the sea lions lazying about on the docks and frolicking in the water. Fun, fun, fun, RIGHT?

- Rode the double-decker carousel. Even more fun!

- and enjoyed some Ben & Jerry’s ice cream cones. In Quinn’s world, this is the most fun thing of all.

We then…

- Rode the streetcar back to Market street

- Rode the muni train back to our neighborhood

- Got off at 24th street where we bought Quinn a new pair of blue Converse All Star low-tops that he picked out himself.

Sounds like a pretty awesome day for a four year old, right?

AND THEN….

I had to go into this card-gift-novelty store to pick up an engagement card for a party we were going to last night. I was obviously out of mind to think that I could take Quinn in there and leave unscathed. If I had only known…

When we first entered the store he started in on the “I want” and I immediately informed him that we were not there to buy something for him but to buy a card for our friends. He was whining at about a “2″ — pretty half-hearted — over some wind up toy.

And then we walked up to the check-out counter which was, of course, dripping with impulse buy items. And he spotted them — a little net bag full of marbles. Suddenly the whining went up to about a “5″ — “Mommy, PLEEEEEASE can I have these marbles? I need them to play a game. Please, really please??? I really really so want them, Mommy.” To which I simply answered “No.” And we went from a “5″ to an “11″.

Next thing I know, as I’m pulling money out of my wallet to pay for the card, assuming that my usually reasonable child will accept my answer and we’ll be on our way, he instead grabs the bag of marbles and runs toward the door. Thankfully, he’s smart enough to know not to run out of the store but once I was done with my transaction and started to walk towards him calmly saying “Quinn, you need to put those marbles back, please” he took off running around the store repeating “No, I want marbles, I want marbles”. I was horrified. What do you do? I can’t actually RUN after him, right? I mean I could just see myself knocking over displays, body-checking other shoppers. So I continue to walk after him saying calmly but sternly, “Quinn come here right now and put those marbles back. You can not take them, they don’t belong to you and that’s stealing”. The shop-keepers were just helplessly watching this potential disaster escalate as my screaming child is dodging me left and right. And I’m thinking — is this really happening? This doesn’t happen to ME! And I’m also thinking that I see no way out of this without some collateral damage.

Finally, Thor, who had been finishing the transaction at the shoe store (where I should’ve left Quinn!) came in. He instantly sussed out what was going on and like my knight in shining armour helped me corner the culprit. Who has at this point worked himself in such a tizzy of marble desire that he is out of his mind. Thor went to grab the marbles away from Quinn but I stopped him and said “Quinn needs to put the marbles back”. Quinn’s screaming “No! No!” And then I stooped to the ole “If you take these marbles that is stealing and the shopkeepers will call the police and you will go to jail.” WHAT??? Did I actually just say that? Did I just turn into that kind of mother?? Threatening my four year old with prison? Yes, indeed, I did. You know what they say about desperate times…

He reluctantly walked up to the bemused but stern shopkeeper and handed the marbles back to her. We then left the store and I’m thinking “Phew! Got through that crisis. Right??” Wrong!

We had one more stop to make. Quinn screamed and cried all the way up the street “I want marbles. I want marbles. I want marbles”. I just kept walking, ignoring him. I went into the next store while Thor stayed outside with the tantruming fiend.

It was a chocolate store where I was buying a gift for the engaged couple. The owner, who I also like to think of as The Pusher because he’s always ready with a free sample of something you can not then resist buying, and I were conversing about white chocolate and how it’s not really chocolate at all but a confection that doesn’t actually deserve to have the word “chocolate” in it’s name but all the same there is some good white chocolate out there and people do ask for it and thus he carries is (meanwhile I’m sampling a cinnamon chili white chocolate that was surprisingly tastly) when Quinn broke free of his jailer out front and came screaming into the store, his mantra of “I want marbles” repeating like a broken record. I had managed to actually tune him out for a few blissful chocolate-sampling moments and was then brought sharply back to reality.

My first thought was “Oh no, do I have to claim him?” Because of course everything lovely that was happening in that store the second before came to an abrupt halt and everyone looked up to see the source of the offending noise. “Oh, I’m sorry” I say to the store owner. “He’s supposed to be outside with my husband. He’s throwing a tantrum and must have broken free.” He kindly responded “That’s okay, it’s just that things are precariously stacked over there….” and at that very moment, Quinn threw himself against the window display, knocking it down. Thor came rushing in apologizing, grabbed Quinn and took him back outside. “Would it help if I offered him some chocolate?” he started to ask and then stopped himself “I guess that would be sending the wrong message, though, right?” “Um, yeah,” I answered. And then he asked, “Is he saying ‘I want mommy’?” “No,” I answered flatly, “he’s saying ‘I want marbles’”. And then I felt the need to explain. “He NEVER does this. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I guess just over-tired, over-stimulated, over-sugared…” I trailed off. I finished up my transaction and joined Thor and the banshee out on the sidewalk.

Thor and I just looked at each other — half absolutely horrified, half absolutely amused. And wondering out loud, “Wow, Quinn has this amazing day, does all this fun stuff, gets new sneakers at the end of it and then dissolves into this ungrateful fit over some marbles. I guess it’s just all about what’s right in front of you when you’re four, huh?” But come on, kid, you just had an AMAZING day!

We proceded to walk home the 10 or so long city blocks with the screaming child at our sides who we continued to ignore except to grab his hands to cross streets. It’s amazing how parenthood works, that you can still love and care about the safety of this creature even as it is doing everything in it’s power to make you want to throw yourself in front of a bus. And as we’re walking, we are of course drawing the attention of everyone we passed. I was in a state of utter disbelief that this was actually US walking through the neighborhood, nowhere to hide, with this tantruming child attracting the sympathetic, amused, and shocked stares of others. That happens to other people, right? I had to admit, though, that I was also impressed at his sheer force of will and sustainability. Finally, about 2 blocks from our house, exhausted, he broke into sobs of “I need someone to help me stop. I can’t stop. I need someone to help me stop”. We got him to calmly ask Thor to pick him up which he did. Quinn then melted into his dad’s shoulder.

A little while later, back at home — the demon gone from our son’s body — OUR Quinn — the one that we know and love — came to us and apologized for “throwing a fit about the marbles.” He then went on his happy, merry way playing with his trains while Thor & I tried to pick up the pieces of our shattered, headache-riddled, exhausted selves and get ready to go to a party.

p.s. I actually don’t expect that anyone other than my mother will actually have read this entirely too long post. Hi Mom! Did this wet your appetite for two weeks with Quinn at the end of the month?