Scream

So, I’m attempting to get my act together in the cooking realm of motherhood. Since the nights I take the boys to Tae Kwon Do are so hectic, I need to plan ahead and start creating crockpot meals. The one I used this week was simple, tasty and I will make it again. The main components were all things the boys enjoy separately (broccoli, chicken, cheesy noodles) but little T.Puzzle was having a hard time with them being all mixed together. He refused to eat, threw a tantrum and was eventually so out-of-control, had to be sent to his room. He proceeds to tantrum on for a solid twenty minutes.

As the screams are winding down I head upstairs to talk to him. I open the door and ask “are you done screaming?” He calms instantly and says, “I wasn’t screaming (which he says as ‘creaming and I find to be aggravatingly adorable), I was yelling.”

“Well, are you done yelling?”

“Yes.”

I’m so glad that semantically we were on the same page. Now if only we could see eye to eye on eating quietly at the table…