This was Cierra for about an hour on Sunday night. We were trying to get a tooth out, but from her screams of anguish, you would have thought we were trying to slaughter her alive. I am surprised the people next door didn't come see what was wrong. Thankfully, we did get the tooth-only 19 or so left to go. (We did feel bad for this one, it had a bit of root left, but the adult tooth is almost all the way in. We would have understood a little bit of crying, but the absolutely defiant fit was a little over the top.)
And this was Brock during dinner on Sunday, when he asked, "Pass the sugar (salt) please," and we wouldn't allow him to pour it on by himself. Brant tried to tell him that Batman doesn't cry, but it didn't work.
I am thinking of hiring our kids out for drama lessons. Any takers?