PMS for Three Year Olds

That is the only adequate term that describes what is going on with my child right now. He's driving us, for lack of a better term, batshit crazy.

One second he's laughing and happy.

The next he's thrown himself on the floor in a fit of pique.

Then he's happy again, as if nothing were amiss.

My husband or I will ask him something benign, such as "Would you like a cookie?"

"Noyes," will be the reply.

What?

"Yeno."

I'd ask him if he plans to run for office, but I'm afraid of the answer.


This morning, he marched into the kitchen and demanded bacon. Bacon.

"Zane, you just ate two biscuits and a waffle. How can you still be hungry?" I was mystified. Zane was adamant; he must have bacon. He even said 'please'. Twice.

So I made him bacon, and told him to come to the table to eat it.

"I don't want bacon," my child told me.

"You just said that you wanted bacon. You came in here and specifically asked for it."

"I don't want bacon," Zane repeated.

I actually face-palmed. I've never done it before, but it's quite possible that I will be doing it a lot from now on. I have a sinking feeling that this is but a shadow of what the teenage years will be like.

I may ask my doctor to prescribe valium for Larry and I when Zane hits puberty.