Me:
Wyatt, calm down.

Boone:
Hey, dude. Could I have more zucchini, please?

Me:
Sure. So... What's up with your brother?

Boone:
What do you mean?

Me:
Look at him.

Boone:
Yeah, I guess he's flipping out a bit.

Me:
A bit? That last cry just shattered the wine glasses in the hutch.

Boone:
They were cheap glasses.

Me:
I don't think putting him in the high chair warrants the fit he's throwing right now.

Boone:
Dude, at this stage in our development, we understand vastly more than we can communicate. That gets incredibly frustrating.

Me:
Fine, but—

Boone:
Not only that, but the inability to communicate could raise other concerns for us, like feelings of extreme fear or anger.

Me:
What could you possibly be angry about?

Boone:
The fact that you don't understand us.

Me:
Oh, right. So, what do I do?

Boone:
You're the dad. Experts say to hold your child until they calm down.

Me:
Okay.

Boone:
Other experts say to let them scream it out, that comforting a toddler in a tantrum amounts to reinforcing bad behavior.

Me:
Damn experts. They never agree.

Boone:
Well, you'd better figure it out because I'm about to launch into my fit.

Me:
What? Why?

Boone:
I just ate the last of the zucchini.

Me:
No. Wait. I can make more.

Boone:
Go ahead. You won't be fast enough. I'm going to get started now.

Me:
Please, don't. What Wyatt's doing isn't the answer.

Boone:
I don't know. He's seems to have conviction.

Me:
That's true. I'll get started on that zucchini.