I was talking to Other Dad this morning about the amount of whining that The Talker does. I don't think he is any worse than other 3 year olds, just better at finding that spot on my spine where the whining voice grates the most.
While we were talking, Other Dad's son threw a fit. Whining, kicking crying - the whole enchilada. I was trying to keep The Talker occupied by watching baby deer in the neighborhood. But in reality, The Talker and I were most interested in what was going on. My boy, because he wanted to play with the fit thrower. And me? Morbid curiosity. I caught myself watching, not only to see how Other Dad dealt, but to see how much his son could dish out. They were both very successful.
I admit, it was nice to see my kid not being the one in trouble. And I really liked not having to deal with the aftermath of the fit. Of course, The Boss Lady would tell you that it all just looked like any weekend around here.
And I won't argue. Whine, maybe...