Years ago in a Wal-Mart, I was walking past the toy department. A screaming four year-old was demanding that his mom buy him the little car set he had opened and scattered all over the floor. After the young mother had several times declined and asked him to come along with her, the boy threw one of the toys at her, leaving a cut on her forehead.
The rattled mom stood there and began slowly counting as some parents do before administering discipline. After she got to 'five', the kid stomped his foot and threw another car nearly hitting another shopper. The boy's face was purple now. Mom started over with 'one,' and began counting again. A crowd had gathered, and a manager was looking at the mess in disbelief. The mother smiled at the boy, held out her hand and again pleaded with him to come with her. And what happened next is one reason why my wife never takes me anywhere with her.
