I sat next to a screaming child today in church. (Don’t worry, he couldn’t possibly detract from the spirit because from where I was sitting under my thundercloud of being sick to death of church, there was no spirit.) But my eardrums were touched. Hurt. Bleeding by the end. I have to wonder if his parents are deaf–between the volume of his cries and their lack of response, the evidence suggests it’s likely.
And now I have to worry that my passing judgment on them today will result in the karma of my own screaming toddler.
It’s probable. I have it on good authority that toddler Me was hell on wheels with a screech of Satan to match.
But I promise you, unless I am physically unable to remove my screaming child from the room, I will remove my screaming child from the room.