My friends with girls have bemoaned the fact that their 3-4 year old girls are dramatic. I think it's just the age.
My dear first-born has learned the art of the fake cry, complete with big ol' tears and convincing "a-HEH! a-HEH!" sobbing. Though I am usually pretty compassionate when it comes to my kids crying, sometimes the fake-drama just gets old.
For example, tonight at dinner Micah cried because:
...we asked him what he liked at the pet store today (somehow this question produced intense anger)
...because he wanted cheetos ("not until you finish your sandwich")
...because he wanted a kitten (like we saw at the pet store)
...because he wants a BB gun (no, son)
...because he put all his kool-aid in his mouth at once, swished it around, thereby inducing a fit of coughing, and spewed kool-aid all over his shirt and food.
...because mommy yelled at him for spewing kool-aid everywhere (ok, I am guilty on this account)
...because his food was wet.
...because he wanted cheetos
...because he wanted a kitten
....because mommy would not let him have cheetos until he ate his sandwich
...because his food was wet
...because Brother had cheetos (Brother ate his food)
....because the cheeto mascot reminded him of a toy he lost at Kids Cove 3 weeks ago
....because his food was wet and he WANTED CHEETOS!
Finally, he decided to eat his food. And he got a small handful of cheetos.
Holy crap. D.R.A.M.A.
Dinner and a show, right?
Yeah, right.
