What do you get when you cross undefined dissatisfaction with a limited vocabulary? A toddler tantrum, that’s what. Kyknoord Jr has reached that delightful age where she wants everything that she can lay her eyes on. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she wants everything in the entire world that she does not actually hold in her two sticky, drool-bedecked little hands.
You see, the things that she is clutching this very minute (which she absolutely had to have a mere moment ago) become completely dull and uninteresting about two picoseconds after she has grabbed them and her gaze falls upon some other utterly irresistible item. To a toddler, the world is like a sushi conveyor-belt. The offerings cruising past always look far more appetizing than the miserable morsel of seaweed and rice presently on your plate.
She leaves a trail of discarded objects behind her as she grabs, rejects and moves on in a seemingly never-ending cycle. Whenever I watch a detective series on television and the protagonist arrives home to find their house ransacked, I think to myself, “Oh. They must have a youngster, too”.
Of course, it almost goes without saying that when something is out of reach and the sprog is denied her (momentary) heart’s desire, much weeping and gnashing of teeth ensues. This can become exceedingly tiresome after a while. “You want the ant poison, do you? Don’t bloody tempt me, okay?”