They suck our souls dry of energy, like a sweet, sweet nectar.

I would have written an actual post, but this monster wore me out today.

Seriously, there are some days when I have nothing left after the five million and sixth high pitched scream.  I just want to bang my head against the wall and wonder, “Why, oh why, did I ever procreate?”

I have to look at cute pictures that make me remember what a love-munch he can be and then go to sleep, and hope for a better day to follow.

What do you do to stop from popping the little head off your tantrumer/screamer/brat?