The mother was yapping on her cellphone and batting away the annoying entreaties of her young girl, who whined incessantly about wanting more ice cream, or about getting down from her highchair, or about wanting to go home, or about some other nonsense upon which such overtired children fixate undue attention with mercurial distaste. When the child's piercing cries climaxed to a continuous screech, the entire restaurant drew a shared breath in cowed silence and whispers of disapproval. As the child seemed to have no end to lung volume, I could help myself no longer. I stood, threw my napkin to the table, and marched with unwavering resolve to the noisy table, and I slapped her solidly across the cheeks. She stopped in stunned silence and stared at me.
The young girl stopped screaming as well.
