EMOTIONAL CONTROL

WHO DETONATES AT THE DROP OF A HAT?

WHY DETONATE AT THE DROP OF A HAT?
EMOTIONS! EMOTIONS! EMOTIONS!
AGAIN! AND WHY?
Why keep blogging about emotions? Surely the psychiatrists and psychologists do just that; and collectively, with all the neuros and gurus all have written tomes throughout the ages on this driving human force.
SHOOO! EMOTIONAL OR EMOTIONLESS? MY ANSWER?
Derived from a scene I witnessed on a delightful afternoon visit to a family friend’s home as the soft sounds of background music, light conversation, laughter and children’s joyous laughter rang out.
A few of the older ladies were busy in the kitchen gathering dirty plates and doing a general tidy-up when the host family’s son-in-law walked in to collect ice that had been requested. Not far behind the host’s son-in-law, his own son with two little fiends chattering gaily walked in as well. The son-in-law’s child, chatting excitedly to his little friends, opened the fridge and took out the milk carton. Not having a glass at hand, he reached up to the overhead cupboard. Unfortunately, the open milk carton slipped from his hand, bounced on the counter spreading milk all over counter and floor.
The child froze – fear radiating off him, eyes dilated - as the father put down the ice and grabbed the child bellowing at him, “You idiot! You bloody stupid fool! Look at the mess you’ve made. How many times do I have to talk to you?’ And up into the air the child went, cowering, with his head covered in his arms as the father bodily lifted him screaming into the child’s face as he shook him. Needless to say, the other two fellows jumped ship and scuttled as fast as their little legs could get them out, leaving the older ladies totally startled at this scene.
SHOOO! What a candid camera moment. It still plays in my mind.
However, being an older person and using this status, I intervened and grabbed the child into my arms. Shh! Shh! I spoke at the father trying to calm the scene as I turned my back on him with the child in my arms. That was an instinctive move on my part. I had no idea whether the father would retaliate. The uncontrolled screaming, however, brought the child’s mother rushing into the kitchen and one look at her face told an old, old story.
My heart twisted – emotions, revealing emotions, displayed and engaged.
Here was one more visible and vicious cycle that needed to be broken.
BY WHOM? GENERATIONAL PARENTAL BEHAVIOUR?

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