Waffles and Opera

Dear Caden,

Today you weren't the happiest little munchkin on the block. I got off of work early today and picked you up from Mrs. Victoria Farley Grissom so that I could love and play with you as our summer comes to an end. You decided to be persistent with your squealing due to the fact that I refused to feed you waffles for lunch and I opted to feed you a meal with more substance. After throwi

ng your lunch on the floor, you decided to take a stance in the middle of the foyer of the house. This, you decide, gives you the loudest, reverberating echo of your whine and squeals. You seem quite pleased with yourself and stood tall with legs apart, arms crossed, and your mouth wide open. I say to myself, this is ok, I can handle it and I start playing Andrew Llyod Weber's Phantom of the Opera with Sarah Brightman to help drown out your fit. I must say that I am uber impressed with you. Every time she went up an octave so did you...and let's just say that you were able to hold your own. You might have a future as an opera singer. However, Mommy's head is now hurting. As I hold you in my lap, your cheeks as pink as can be, you're happily munching on a waffle, and I think to myself, 'Mommy must think this through better next time...you are quite smart my little piglet. You have won this round, but Mr. Independent please know that I will try again tomorrow. It isn't over.'

Love,
Mommy