Starting to notice: Kid is seriously invested in being a victim. Give him 11 Easter eggs, and he'll complain that only 8 of them are in red foil and surely this is because he is being ripped off on purpose. Give him a glass of milk and he'll note that yesterday's milk was colder and that this isn't fair. Give him a hug and have it pointed out that your glasses have "bashed" his forehead. There are only three Rebel troopers in his Lego battle pack, but ANDREW has four. Help him on with his socks and hear all about how you scratched his leg and could he please have a bandaid. Dad got 7 capers in his dinner and only 6 for poor Kid. He feels unloved when you ask him to please for the love of God please please brush his teeth.
Today being Easter, and me having had it to HERE with the histrionics, I thought I'd explain to him about victimhood on the world stage. As in the story of Jesus. How it ends, not how it started, which he knows all about. (The Mad Eyes brough presents but he couldn't play with any of them because they weren't toys and he had to go home from the hospital on a donkey.)
Kid, already feverish and chattering, is sitting up in his bed, hugging his knees, eyes very very large indeed, totally reconsidering his position on the Romans.
And another day of exceptional parenting draws to a close.