This morning, J.P. was in a bit of a foul mood. Bad for Jude, good for me, since I had to get to work early and she was left to deal with our ornery son.
The funny thing, lately, is that when J.P. throws a fit - when he's really mad - he balls his hands up into fists and runs in place, yelling the entire time. His face turns red and he yells really, really loudly. It's hard not to laugh, actually.
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