Last week, my son had an epic meltdown at 7:45 am. Grievances included, but were not limited to: the regrettable lack of Kashi in the pantry, the “loud chewing sounds” his brother was making, and the sudden disappearance of a Patrick Mahomes Teeny Mate. I was barely awake, yet found myself thrust into Defcon 5-level kid-consoling. But my son wasn’t…
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