the screaming fit

So none of us like to admit that our children are little heathens, and I'm no different from you. But I am just coming down from dealing with a 6-year-old screamer. Forceful coersion was required tonight, with Paige not wanting to do her homework. Enjoy the passive aggression as it evolves into full-fledged hostility.

Daddy: Paige let's sit down and finish this homework. Paige: [big sigh, starts to tear up, huffs angrily as she sits down.] Daddy: Math About Me, this sounds interesting, you're supposed to put all sorts of number facts about yourself. Let's see, you can put the number of our house. Paige: [sits there] Paige: [sits there] Paige: [sits there looking cross] Daddy: You can put how old you are. Paige: [sits there looking cross] Paige: [sits there looking angry] Paige: [sits there looking angry] Daddy: You're six years old, why don't you write that? Paige: [sits there looking angry] Paige: [sits there looking angry] Paige: [sits there looking angry] Daddy: Paige, write "I'm six years old" right there. Paige: I'M THINKING! I'M THINKING! YOU'RE ALWAYS TELLING ME EXACTLY WHAT TO PUT! Daddy [not getting angry]: Okay, go ahead, you can think. Paige: [sits there looking angry] Paige: [sits there looking angry] Paige: [sits there looking angry; face is getting beet red] Daddy: Do you want to put how tall you are? I'll measure you. [Gets out tape measure] Paige: [Stands there, pissed and slumped over, while daddy measures her.] Daddy: Okay, wow, you're getting tall: 51 inches. Go ahead and write "51 inches tall" right there. Paige: [Sits slumped over in her chair, steam coming out of her ears.] Daddy: Paige, we need to finish this homework. Paige: I'M THINKING! Daddy: Okay. Paige: [sits there] Paige: [sits there] Paige: [sits there] Daddy [still calm]: Paige, we need to hurry up. It's getting late. I'll set the timer, but you need to write these things down about yourself. Paige: I'M THINKING! YOU! ARE! ALWAYS! TIMING! ME! AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH!

Welcome to my world.