I always wondered
how I’d react

mortified
angry
stunned

and there it happened
today
on a patch of industrial carpet
at the airport
hundreds of people
waiting for their planes
with nothing better to do
than watch

the tantrum

and I found myself
also watching
my lovely son
contort
like an electrocuted noodle
apoplectic
about not being allowed
to ride the escalator
alone.

I tried to pick him up
but he seemed to have
no bones
so I squatted in tight
and that’s when I began
to laugh

not at him
really

more at the profound humility
of the moment

and the uncanny similarity
his poses had
to modern dance I’ve seen
all ragged and sharp
then limp
as though torqued
by an angry
puppeteer.