How is it that as children we wail at any slight, and as adults we quietly suffer atrocities?
I watched a child shriek in terror today as their possession of an undesirable quantity was revoked by their maternal custodian.
So. So what if you can’t have what you want you little brat!
This is where it struck me. Maybe this brat is far more cogent than I!
Here, I suffer nearly unbearably without the slightest wince. Torrents of hostile creatures abound, even this little monster, and I do not even clear my throat.
This child and I are on very different ends of the pain tolerance spectrum. Where should we draw the line where we as adults find that part of us that once wildly met reality’s attempt to offer anything but bliss, with a penetrating, high pitched, help sanctioning, battle cry!? Please explain. Thanks