Alright. I realize that Maddie is three years old, and being three years old, she is unable to clearly communicate consistently her needs and desires. Particularly, there is a problem with expressing her outrage, disappointment, what-have-you, when those needs and desires are, she feels, not being met.
However.
If we have spent an entire day devoted to your exploration of the wonders of the natural world, taken you on An Adventure, and topped off said Adventure with a tasty chocolate shake, the least you can do is QUIT YOUR GODDAMN WHINING.
Is this my child? Is this *my* daughter? Because I didn't teach her that. I don't know whose baby that was in the back of Greg's car today, screaming and whining about how her chocolate shake was too thick to drink through the little sucky - and by sucky I mean disfunctional - straw that was provided by the sadist fucks at Wendy's....Which is another thing. Who - WHO - gives a three-year-old a chocolate shake denser than concrete? Why not give her a candy bar coated with invisible ... I dunno, something really hard so she can't bite into it. Shellac. Glass made from diamond dust. Translucent platinum.
In any case, that wasn't my kid. My daughter is happiness and light and sunshine snowflake joy on a fruitcake. My sweet little Madilyn Rae. Rae, as in, "Ray of prismic light." That kid was a pod person from Hell. Capital H, Hell. Whoever switched my baby, kindly return the nice one to me in the morning. This one's got some kind of malfunction.