Hell hath no fury...
Like a fiercely independent toddler with a good set of lungs on him. I've never seen feist like it. What's that you say? But his mother calls her blog One Feisty Mama? Oh yes. I see your point. Thanks for that, no really.
Apparently he reserves the right to:
Shriek in abject horror when you have the audacity to hand him a sweetie.
Repeatedly yell I DO IT MYSELF! until you get the message, and a bleeding eyeball to boot.
Insist that you return the sweetie to its original location and allow him to DO IT MYSELF!
Screech when you try to unwrap said sweetie for him.
Scream when he realises that he cannot do it for himself.
Shout when you try to intervene.
Then he’ll stand at the bin for a good 5 painful minutes, painstakingly unwrapping the sweetie with the occasional shout of frustrated fury.
But then he’ll skitter off in a cloud of delight at his independence, and you’ll both wince a little inwardly at your increasing sense of redundancy, and whoop whoop silently at your increasing sense of redundancy.
So this is what the tantrums are about: the need to prove to the world that your baby is a big boy.
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