We have a tantrum.

Today, I took something away from Graham. This in itself is not that unusual; I take countless dangerous, dirty, or stupid objects out of his hands. But, for Graham, this action on my part led to the Mother of All Tantrums on his part. I got to witness the whole bad deal: shrieking, undulating, sweating, crying, tomato-facedly choking. At first, I was super zen about it- 20 minutes later, less so. Still, as I picked him up then put him down, repeatedly, since he couldn't decide whether he wanted me or not, I chortled a little (inwardly) at the drama. Let's see if I'm still laughing an another year. Or when he's 15.