Click Me!
This evening has been full of tirades and tantrums.
My daughter spoke out against injustice. My daughter spoke out against inequity. She delivered a forceful denunciation of general night-time rituals. She railed against being moved to the next step. (“I don’t want to go upstairs! I want to play!” ”I don’t want to sit on the potty, I want to do a naked dance!” ”I don’t want to get into the bathtub, I have to stay on the potty!” and on, and on, and on.)
She fumed as she sat or stood in various Time-Out locations. Upon hearing the timer go off, she’d grudgingly go on to do the Next Thing in our rituals.
It’s hard to take her seriously when she’s pouting. She’s so damn cute. She’s the total package: arms crossed over protruding belly, lips pursed in an angry scowl, head tilted forward such that she’s practically looking at you through her eyebrows. I bite my lips I want to laugh so.
Of course, the screaming detracts from the cute. My ears are still ringing.
