Dear Crazy Person Living Inside My Three-Year-Old,
I’m sorry I pushed the garage door button. I forgot that you go absolutely bonkers when deprived of the opportunity to push any sort of button. I was in a hurry and I wasn’t thinking. My bad.
I’m also sorry for turning off the TV in the middle of a riveting episode of The Wiggles. I get it: I wouldn’t want my TV-watching sessions ended early, either. But come on—do you really have to behave like I’ve just killed Dora the Explorer or something? Take a breath. It’s going to be okay.
While we’re talking tantrums, I think you should give yourself a break on the basketball court. You’re only 35 inches tall. It’s okay to miss a shot. (And if you want to grow taller, eat your broccoli.)
I love you no matter what, Crazy Person living inside my three-year-old, but you’re starting to make me feel like the crazy one.