The child rolls on the floor, fists pounding, legs kicking, big tears flooding down it’s checks, each new cry demanding that it be denied no longer. It wants what it wants. And right now.

We adults, of course, can’t indulge in such tantrums. We can’t throw ourselves on the floor, kicking and screaming. But, there are other ways to be bratty. Ways subtle and not so subtle.

We can pressure, and threaten, and coerce, even steal. Because we too want what we want when we want it. We too, resent being denied.

Then, sometimes, like the child, when we finally get what we were yelling for, we find we really didn’t want it after all. All we wanted was to assert our authority.

Or we disappointed. It wasn’t what we thought it would be. We had deluded ourselves.

O’Lord, teach us that we cannot get everything we want, and what we want is not always best for us. Make use see that difference between acquiring on our own, and the injustice of making demands on others for our own self-gratification.

O’ Lord, let the child in us outgrow its tantrums.

While grown people typically don’t engage in tantrums, laying on the floor, kicking and screaming, I think many people don’t outgrow the behavior they exhibited as children from timidity to bullying.

While my grandmother interpreted some people as asserting their authority to get what they want, even if they later discover it wasn’t what they coveted, I believe these people never had the self-control necessary to quiet their need to constantly get what they want. As babies, they were pampered, getting their way. In kindergarten, they were the ones grabbing other’s toys, and as they grew, they were the bullies, and overbearing teens who trounced on others.

In adulthood, they became entrepreneurs, top sales people, athletes, and promoters who are determined to “win” at all costs. Their tantrums evolved into tirades, intimidating and over-powering co-workers. They are the ones who always need the last word, the most praise, and the perceived, most prestigious positions. They trounce on others to cover up for their deficiencies and slipups.

Hoping these people realize there’s a difference between acquiring on their own, and the injustice of making demands on others for their own self-gratification is naïve. There are stark disparities in how baby boomers, Generation X, and Millennials or Generation Y, see the world. The latter have been shown to have an elevated sense of entitlement and narcissism, having been raised with technology an arms-reach away.

There’s no need to wait or be tolerant when answers are a click-away through a search engine verses wading through a book or encyclopedia. Photos instantaneous instead of waiting for film to be developed. Communication as quick as putting a cell phone to your ear, typing a few sentences (or characters), and clicking “send.” Since childhood, they’ve be entertained and coddled with access to programming that makes learning and passing the time fun and easy. Should they do poorly, they’re told “It’s okay. Everyone’s a winner.”

What’s to be done? There’s nothing to be done, but to realize and acceptance some people will never outgrow their tantrums, and will pin anything that goes wrong, impedes their quest to get ahead, or acquire what they want on the unfortunately people who cross their paths. For them, self-gratification is a higher calling than collaboration and working towards a common cause or attainment.

Some years ago at the supermarket, I was pushing a cart down the aisle. Up the aisle, with a child in her cart, came this pretty-faced, broad-bodied mu-mu-gowned lady.

Not until she drew alongside me, and her words heavy with sarcasm fell on my ears, “Did you have a good look? Did you see enough?’ Did I realize I’d been starting at her?

Stunned with embarrassment, I stood stock-still. She walked on, and even when she turned the corner, I could hear her voice angrily protesting to her companions about ill-mannered, oafs like me.

Coming to, I wanted to run after her, explaining that I wasn’t looking at her, but at the yoke of her dress. By coincidence I was making a dress similar to hers, and having trouble setting in the yoke. And that’s where my eyes were fastened, to see how the yoke of her dress was set.

I should have gone after her. I didn’t. My spirit wanted to, but my feet were rooted.

My explanation might not have made her feel better, but I would have one less regret to carry around on my conscience.

O Lord, all these little regrets. They lie asleep then suddenly awaken to prick our memory with the sting of a needle. And we must relive what we want to forget. Perhaps, they are meant to serve as reminders to be mindful of our manners.

As you age, and experience life, interacting with people socially and at work, the more regrettable memories accumulate. And while there’s a desire for a mental cleanser to erase them, there’s no cleanser, unless you’re devoid of scruples.

The worse regrettable moments are tied to sharp words, directed at a spouse, friend, or neighbor. It can be as an unintentional the slip-of-the-tongue when you point out something that’s troubling to the individual such as their weight, occupation, social status, or origin. Or it could be a well-craft barrage of words, designed to inflict emotional pain.

In either case, they’re awkward to take back, and can be difficult to recover from as the pile of insults, innuendoes, and barbs pile up.

My grandmother regards these “pricks of memory” as a reminder to be mindful of one’s manners. However, technology has resulted in a decline in manners. The niceties of truly talking to someone is now a call-on-the-run, a terse instant message, or hastily written email. One’s attention is reduced to sound bites, interrupted by buzzing phones, and dinging devices. No one is rude because almost everyone is preoccupied – getting updates, snapping selfies, responding to texts, checking an email, watching flicks, playing game or making calls or listening to what’s being piped into their ears via Bluetooth or earbuds.

Attention spans and courtesies have fallen off the ends of bell curves, becoming seemingly non-existent. As a result, if my grandmother would have spied the “broad-bodied mu-mu-gowned lady” today, she probably would have pulled out her smart phone, and brazenly snapped a picture of the women’s dress. She may have even posted it to Pinterest or maybe her Facebook page, commenting she was sewing a similar outfit.