Born of Frustration

Dear Mom and Dad,

I believe you were mistaken when you named me Thad Jacob Basner, because you should have named me Thad “Frustration” Basner. I have entered the “Throw Down Phase” as you so fondly call it. I definitely inherited the frustration gene as I have no patience or tolerance for the smallest tasks in life. For instance, when I want something to go together, like a train track, why can’t it just go together? No it has to be difficult and not connect, causing me to launch into a major meltdown full of screaming, crying and throwing any object I can get my little hands on, can’t you relate? Another example would be when I want to go outside and I ask politely in my littlest, cutest voice, I don’t do so for entertainment. I want to go outside, and I want to go outside now. Rather, you tell me “in a minute”, whereby this causes me to throw myself on the floor kicking and screaming. If I don’t get my way this could last for a good 15 minutes all the while I continue to scream outside! And when I don’t want to come inside, I’m serious about this. Why do you make me scream at the top of my lungs to alert the neighbors that you are abusing your parental privileges by dragging me inside for dinner? Also, don’t look at me like I am absolutely crazy when out of the blue I just have a meltdown, obviously something is wrong and it’s your fault that you can’t figure out why I’m having problems. In conclusion, to prevent further occurrences from happening, you could just simply give in to my needs/demands…doesn’t that sound easy enough?

Love, Thad Frustration Basner