I’d imagine, based on how I was when I was a girl, that dealing with a moody female five year old would involve a lot of conversation, a lot of questions, a lot of humoring and coaxing and consoling. Or at least, because I was a girl, I’d assume that’s what folks would assume I wanted when I was in a bad mood.
Perhaps they should have taken a hint from the grumpy boy manual I accidentally discovered at the fair this past Sunday. Simply pick up a grumpy boy and fling him over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and proceed to carry him up the hill, bumping and thumping him and upending him at will until he howls with laughter and threatens to throw up… all the cotton candy he ate half an hour ago… down your back.
Rinse and repeat until he can’t even pretend to pout any longer.
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