With dad yelling and screaming, we both dash back in the house, grab towels and sponges, and proceed to spend 30 minutes we already didn’t have mopping up the car before the the milk and sugar has a chance to destroy the upholstery.
Crises averted, I face myself in the mirror and take stock of the situation. My shoulder hurts, I have the distinct sensation of being yanked around by the arm. Where does that come from? My ears are thundering. Echos, more than the standard ringing that the tinnitus imposes. Shortness of breath; that’s probably adrenaline. Who’s voice do I hear ringing in my ears? It’s not mine. Mother, father, some other relative? What event, in my past, motivates me to loose my mind when careless accidents like this happen. It’s not voluntary. A Pavlovian response, trained into the mind when…? I wish I knew.
Still short of breath. Definitely adrenalin. Is this the feeling that the adrenalin junkies I hear about all the time crave? Bungee jumpers, sky divers, etc; the fight or flight response. Why in the world would you want this? Do things on purpose in order to bring this feeling on?
Why am I so angry about spilled milk?
When I got him to school, he’s whining about his wet butt. Consequences of his careless actions, I tell him. Much more appropriate than the hide tanning I would have received. Maybe he’ll react better than I do when he’s standing in my shoes. One can hope, anyway.