This morning Grant is mad. He’s really, really mad.
He’s been having a temper tantrum for the better part of an hour. Why, you ask? Well, isn’t it obvious? I gave him his snack in the wrong color bowl. I’m a horrible bitch of a mother like that sometimes.
When I handed him the green bowl he looked shocked. He couldn’t believe what was happening:
“What the...I’m sorry…what the HELL is this? Did you just attempt to feed me puffs out of a GREEN bowl? Are you freaking serious? I wanted the blue bowl. I can’t eat puffs out of this bowl. What is wrong with you? Are your three-year-old mind reading powers in the shop? This is unacceptable.”
So, like I said, he’s so pissed off.
The thing about Grant, however, is that he’s no good at being angry. He just doesn’t have it in him.
When Carter has a temper tantrum people in the next state are aware that something is bothering him. When Grant has one people in the same house as him sometimes miss it.
This morning was a prime example of the most ineffective temper tantrum in the world.
When he saw the green bowl (which was his favorite color yesterday, by the way) he pushed it away, made an angry face and yelled at me to get the blue bowl. The blue bowl was clean and he could have had it, but I have a really strict rule in this house that if you’re being a little shithead you don’t get what you want. So I told him green bowl or nothing.
Well…that did not go over well. He walked into the kitchen and gently pushed a chair. Twice! Then he walked by a dish towel hanging on the cabinet and knocked it to the floor.
The whole time he was RAVAGING the kitchen he was making little pouty noises and frowning.
Does this kid look mad or WHAT!!
You might think that’s bad enough but it doesn’t stop there. Know what he said to me? I hope you’re sitting down. He said “I’m gonna put clean dishes in the dirty side of the sink!”
Do you believe the mouth on that kid?
After a few minutes of pouting around the kitchen he took his sorry self into the playroom…where he spotted a cool truck that he likes. He must have gotten distracted because he stopped frowning and started playing. I was hoping the destruction was over and that I could put the house back together but after a few minutes he looked up and saw me and thought “Oh wait, I’m still mad at her.”
So the tantrum resumed.
This time he totally meant business. He brushed past me…I guess it could have been considered a push…and in his angriest, meanest voice announced:
“I’m not eating ANY PUFFS out of that bowl!”
My God! You’re not? But if you don’t eat these puffs you’ll probably DIE OF STARVATION! What kind of a mother would I be if I let my child refuse to eat puffs? Something must be done.
I went and got the blue bowl. I filled it with puffs. I put it on the floor and let the dogs eat out of it.
Well that was the final straw. This shit just got real.
“Mom! I’m gonna shoot you out of a muffler!”
He’s going to shoot me out of a muffler. That’s the worst punishment he could come up with.
This earth shattering temper tantrum started at 9am. It’s now 10:30am and he just came up to me and hugged me.
He clearly forgot again how awful I am.