crazy roommate

Dutch asked me to take a movie of her doing an interpretive dance of the Mt. Saint Helens eruption.

Durch has been very Jekyll-and-Hyde-y lately. Like Goofus and Gallant, bundled into one kid. She's totally lovely part of the time, funny and polite and kind, and then she's SO NOT lovely. Horrible, actually. Three days in a row, she threw massive tantrums in the morning because none of her clothes are pretty enough to wear. I  wanted to throttle her.* I am sympathetic; I understand that her world has changed dramatically with the arrival of The Other One. But geez. 

She'll grow out of it, I guess. If she doesn't, it's going to be hard for her to find a roommate in the future.

The good news is that she has no new cavities. Since her sister seems bent on spending all our money on healthcare, we are relieved. Hopefully Skipper will stay out of the hospital for a while so we can save up for Dutch's braces.

 *I didn't. I did yell, though, and I wasn't nice. I'm ashamed of how poorly I handled those tantrums. Hey, did I mention that I discovered recently that it's NOT ILLEGAL TO HIT YOUR KID? In half the states, they're even allowed to whack your kid at SCHOOL, WITH A PADDLE. Sorry about all the capital letters, but good grief - that is so VERY WRONG.  I can see why they don't want to go around arresting parents who snap and slap their kid (or hit them with a map on a stressful road trip...) once or twice, but really.  I'm pretty sure the parent is supposed to be the one who's able to use their words. Not that words can't be deployed to hurt at least as much as hands. Never mind. There are no good solutions here.