The Swede wasn't home and I had a lot to do to prepare for our Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, so I was really counting on Jamie's nap today. It did not happen. That's what I get for bragging about my three hour nap on Thursday, I guess. What did happen, however, is that this tired little fella pitched a gigantic, screaming fit from the moment I opened the front door to the moment this hot dog was in his face. In the parking lot in our neighborhood, ten minutes in the car, the parking lot at the grocery store; if I hadn't kept such superhuman composure I'm quite sure everybody who crossed us would have called BRIS on Jambo's behalf despite my clearly being the one they should feel sorry for. The hot dog did the trick, though (that's my boy!), and soon we were in a great mood and primed to run into Axel and his mom who had just experienced the exact same thing with her wild one. It does a mom's heart good to know that you're not the only one standing there frozen while your toddler writhes, screaming, on the ground.