Monday, December 20, 2010

The Screamer

Crew has become unbearably loud lately. He screams at us constantly, though I am his favorite victim by a (very) wide margin. Justin blames me because I tolerate it. I'm sure he's right because the mini-monster doesn't yell at people outside of our family. He's as sweet as sugar to the neighbors, gentle as a lamb (unless you are a baby smaller than him, of course).


I don't mean to put up with it, but I have compassion for his plight: It must be so difficult to have so many things to say and no words with which to say them. I can't count on his siblings either; Kinley and Tanner are bigger softies than I am, catering to our darling diva. Justin is more firm, but he's inhibited by the houseful of spineless enablers around him.

The Bitty Beast can dissolve my nerves instantly by screaming in just the right tone.

I scream back sometimes. "Stop yelling at me!" I yell. It's surprisingly ineffective.

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