Remy cracked it.
Foot stomping.
Red face.
Full-body outrage.
I’d interrupted joyful play with:
“Bath time.”
—
I carried him inside,
kicking the whole way.
—
Then it hit me.
Right now,
he only has a few dozen words.
Cat.
Car.
Flower.
“No”
is his main negotiating tactic.
—
That tantrum wasn’t strategy.
It was vocabulary.
—
We both calmed down.
I let him choose the bath toys.
—
The yellow duck won.