At least once a day, the following monologue apparently occurs in my three-year-old’s head:

“I wonder if I still can’t get what I want by whining or yelling or just generally freaking out. That approach hasn’t really worked at any point during the last couple years but I suppose they may have decided last night that that’s not a thing anymore. What are the odds that at some point they’re just going to be all, ‘Eh, screw it’? Today feels right, you know? This moment feels right. I’ve just really got a good vibe that we’re at a new place and acting like a nincompoop for a little bit will bring results. Ok, brain, I’ll be right back… [insert 30-second tirade here]… Well tickle my rear, they’re still not giving it up. Talk to you tomorrow, brain.”