This is a post about anger. It's about anger in a 50 year old man and about anger in a little girl not yet two years old.
I don't like camping. I've never liked camping. But camping is something I've done many times in my life to make other people happy. I joined the Boy Scouts to make my father happy and went camping for the same reason. I took my sons camping to try to get them to love nature.
Me I'm a hiker or I use to be a hiker. I've never been a camper, my heart was never in it.
I think I've went on my last camp out. Seeing my two grandchildren play around the campfire was wonderful but my mind doesn't handle stress well and hoping and praying not to have asthma attack is very stressful to me.
With stress comes my greatest enemy, my own anger. I got angry four times on my family trip.
I don't think I'll write down those moments of anger any time soon.
At the camp site I was sitting near the fire when I saw my two grandchildren dropping every red plastic spoon on the ground off of the picnic table.
"Denver give grandpa all the red spoons please."
My little grandson handed me what I thought were all the red spoons. Then I heard my grand daughter cry and scream as she fell down on the ground.
"Cordelia why are you crying?"
"She wants to give you spoons too grandpa."
Said my daughter-in-law Amanda.
"I'm sorry Cordelia, grandpa wants your red spoons too. Please give them to me."
As she stood up I saw her right hand was clenching red spoons, knifes and forks. She handed them to me and I wiped the tears from her eyes and gave her a hug and a kiss.
How little I differ from my Grand Daughter, I don't understand something and I get angry.