I’m one of those sick parents who doesn’t mind tantrums. Honestly, I don’t. It’s the whining I can’t stand. Those days when nothing you do is right and there’s an incessant power struggle that is just completely unwinnable by either side.
But the tantrums are actually humorous to me. They tend to be about the most ridiculous things that I can’t help but laugh when peanut’s laying on the floor screaming “no front door, no front door” as we’re about to walk out the front door instead of the side door. Uh, sorry kid, who knew you didn’t want to go out the front door, you know, the door you insist upon exiting 99.9999% of the time?
Today’s lunch time was no different. Peanut was already tired from having woken at 6am and playing outside with two of his pals for an hour and a half in the heat and I could tell that we were well on the road to cranky town. I had shared a few of my pretzel sticks with him as we were eating together. He grabbed one, took a bite, looked at the remaining half in his hand and started to tear up.
“Bwoken,” he looked at me.
“Mm-hmmm, because you took a bite. Yummy!”
“Pwetzel, bwoken. Fix it.” He held out the pretzel to me, the tears spilling from his eyes. “Fix it.”
Needless to say, the fact that I couldn’t fix the pretzel since he’d eaten half of it already was unacceptable. Luckily, we were easily distracted by a banana.
And, not surprisingly, he fell asleep for his nap in about 3 seconds.